A Seemingly Harmless Encounter
by Hanna28
Summary: It didn’t even give way; it was simply overtaken, defeated without any hope at all of triumph. As was I; but I was more than willing. Draco/Hermione.
1. Contradiction

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

AN: Hmm, yes. My first decent look into HP fanfiction and of course it's of my favorite pairing. I'll be completely honest and say that when it comes to the facts (dates, times, specific happenings), I will probably be lacking in accuracy. Feel free to correct me.

I'm going to go ahead and have this set in sixth year. And if I'm to stick with this whole honesty thing, then I should mention I have no idea what's going to happen with the whole 'Draco's supposed to kill Dumbledore, yadda yadda yadda' thing. So feel free to try to persuade me, if you care in the least.

Oh, and another thing: this story will also be a chance for me to be selfish and use it to practice some writing techniques that are my weak points. Feedback is lovely.

Onto whatever my overactive imagination could come up with.

_"What we have is based upon moment-to-moment choices of what we do. In each of those moments, we choose. We either take a risk and move toward what we want, or we play it safe and choose comfort. Most of the people, most of the time, choose comfort. In the end, people either have excuses or experiences; reasons or results; buts or brilliance. They either have what they wanted or they have a detailed list of all the rational reasons why not."_

It was late, how late I hadn't even bothered to check. It was stupid of me, I know, but I'd fallen asleep in the library. How typical of Hermione Granger, right? I'd awakened by a _thud_ sound from nearby. I jerked up ungracefully and scrambled to my feet. The only light I could see by was a candle I'd lit hours ago. It was nearly burnt out. The rest of the surrounding area was pitch black. Everyone must have left long ago…except for whoever else was in there now with me.

I then realized that my knees were bent awkwardly, as if ready to crouch down at the first sight of danger. I was cowardly even subconsciously. I felt like rolling my eyes at myself as I reached for my wand in my robes.

_Thump_. This sound was different. It sounded like a book being put back in its place between two others. I knew it well. Reluctantly, I took a few steps forward. My shadow hid any light I could have used from the candle behind me. My breathing was already picking up its pace. My wand was held out in front of me as I blindly felt around the corner of a book shelf. I didn't dare light my own wand for it was still dark around me. Sure, whoever it was must be close if I can hear them so distinctly but it's not as though _I _was about to make them aware of my presence. That would be incredibly daft.

"Blaise, just shut up and go back!" a familiar voice whispered angrily.

"No, you need help. I can't believe you're even doing this at night. What if some professor came in and saw you looking at these?" Blaise Zabini. What was who looking at?

"I'm sure it wouldn't come as a surprise," the other boy sneered. "Besides, what else do you expect me to do? Come here in broad daylight? Yeah, cause that would be bloody _brilliant_."

I was still scuttling closer to the voices, slowly making progress. It was as if I had no choice in the matter. I could hear them clearly enough, so why were my feet still edging nearer and nearer? An inexplicable feeling of missing out on something significant clutched at me and overtook my rational reasoning. This was a bad idea, a very bad idea. And yet, I continued to make my way towards the pair.

"Draco," I gulped. _Malfoy_. Why hadn't I recognized his voice before? "Just get what you need so we can go," Blaise sounded distressed and more than eager to get out of the abandoned, more or less, library.

"I didn't ask you to come. Don't expect me to hurry up and leave for your sake. You want to go? Go."

And then it happened. My elbow hit a book that must have already been teetering close to the edge of the bookcase and fell. It hit the floor loudly and the sound echoed throughout the room. Fatal mistake number one. I stopped dead in my tracks, apprehensive of what was to come. Silence.

Blaise was the first to speak. "Did you hear that?" Malfoy didn't say anything. "Fine, I'm getting out of here. I'll see you back in the common room."

I listened to his retreating foot steps. With him gone however, it was entirely quiet. My heart was beating rapidly, terrified of the unknown. Next I heard footfalls coming towards me, wherever it was that I stood. My eyes widened and I began walking backwards. The other footsteps stopped. I was motionless. The pattern repeated itself and I was stuck in limbo again, waiting for Malfoy to pick up his walking again.

Just as I heard foot against floor I also heard, "Lumos."

I stumbled backwards and fell right on my arse. A gasp escaped my lips. I was sprawled out on the floor looking up into the pale face of my enemy. His eyes were narrowed and his brow furrowed. He looked perplexed more than anything.

"Granger," his voice was low, dangerous.

I swallowed hard in response, but was silent. I worked on getting up off the floor and was on my knees reaching for my wand when I heard him speak.

"Good. On your knees at my feet, just like you should be." His voice was cold, as were his gray eyes when I looked up into them. My indignation took the place of my apprehension and fright.

I stood up and said while doing so, "I'd rather be _dead _than considered anywhere respectable on the ancient social ladder your pureblooded family refers to."

"I'd rather you _were_ dead," he replied casually but with malice nonetheless.

I set myself up for that one but didn't feel embarrassed at all. "I'm sure of that." I busied myself by brushing off my robes.

"Oh, leave the sarcasm Granger. Go shag some dim-witted fool and stop wasting my bloody time, and for Merlin's sake stop spying on me!"

I was enraged. "You prick! I can't believe you're pretentious enough to think I'm here to _spy_ on you." My temper was getting the best of me and I had to stay in check, make sure I didn't lose it completely. Hexing him was out. That would be very unwise of me. Even I wouldn't dare take my wand to him of my own accord while we're by ourselves at night in the library.

He lowered his wand slightly making me squint to see his face. His jaw was held awkwardly and he was staring at a spot on the floor. Where was the witty come back? Even if he did have one he was about to say, it would be quite delayed.

"Then why _are_ you here? Meeting someone?" He quirked an eyebrow and smirked. I wanted to smack him. Prat.

"I fell asleep if you _must_ know," I answered in a sardonic tone. "What are you doing sneaking around here so late?"

He glared at me. "Nothing that concerns you…" his voice trailed off.

I stared at him angrily and folded my arms across my chest. "You owe me some sort of explanation." Okay, so that was a lie. Just because serendipity was playing cruel jokes on me didn't mean he had to explain himself to me. My curiosity was eating away at me though.

He chuckled maliciously and said, "I don't owe you a thing, Granger."

A shiver ran down my spine at his tone. I should probably have been afraid, but was not. I inquired further despite my own common sense. It was like provoking a lion- a remarkably stupid thing to do in all aspects.

"So what were you reading that would be so disapproved by everyone?" I asked him, nose held high and all. He took a few steps forward and I swallowed hard. Still, I stood my ground.

"_Again_," he spoke through gritted teeth, "Nothing that concerns you."

I shrugged as if not even fazed by my own defeat. I turned on my heel to leave. "Very well. Then I'll just ask Blaise about it when I see him tomorrow."

I'd barely taken a step when his hand gripped my elbow and twirled me around to look him in the eye. I heard a sharp intake of breath and discovered it was my own. He was glowering at me as he said, "You will do no such thing!"

I yanked my arm out of his tight choke-hold grip. He let go but was hesitant to do so. I could tell that he wanted me to agree to his terms. Ha. He must be kidding himself.

"In case you haven't taken notice, I don't live by your rules." My voice was defiant and sounded audacious to my own ears. Honestly though, how could Malfoy…._Malfoy_ expect anything different from me? I'm not some obedient little dog he can kick around!

I turned to leave but was swiftly turned around again. This time my back was pushed up against one of the wider bookcases. I grunted at the harsh contact. Painful, yes. Threatening, no. I still wasn't afraid of him…even if I was trapped between his tall figure and a bookcase.

"I don't have the time nor the patience to verbally spar with you until I get my way." Surprisingly, his voice was calm, almost as if he'd done this before. I knew some previously rehearsed speech I'd probably heard numerous times before was coming up next.

I sniggered. "Is this the part where you threaten to use your daddy's influential power against me?" I taunted. It was such a teasing, condescending tone. I couldn't help but think that it was rather intrepid of me…intrepid or just plain idiotic; I suppose both.

Malfoy simply glared straight at me. He didn't say a word. I was irritated and tired. I wanted to go to bed. I sighed dramatically and moved to duck under his arm at my right. He lowered it suddenly preventing me from escape.

"Malfoy, let me go," my tone was one of impatience and annoyance. It couldn't have helped the matter. Then, to make everything worse, I tried to physically push him out of my way. My hands pushed against his chest and then gripped on one of his arms trying to get him to lower it. I was, of course, ineffectual compared to him. He said nothing but did let out a chuckle now and then. Well, at least _one _of us found it amusing.

I tried to duck under his arm again but he grabbed both of my wrists, holding them both securely above my head. I panted at the physical exertion, and then I realized how he was looking at me. Malfoy stared down at me, a shadow slanting across his cheek bone (his left hand held both his wand and my wrists) and he looked amused. Too amused. Like he had something in mind…like there was some specific thing he was intent on doing. My pulse quickened.

"You do have quite the mouth on you," he said softly. It was too soft a tone compared to any other way I'd heard him speak over the years. To me at least. I didn't like it. I didn't like it at all. I gazed up at him from under my eyelashes. "Shouldn't you be afraid?" It was an actual question, I was sure. It didn't sound rhetorical and he was looking at me with questioning eyes. He expected me to answer. He didn't even sound embarrassed at having become aware of my lack of panic.

"I'm not scared of you," I lied. Even to me, my voice didn't sound convincing. It sounded meek and pathetic. The way he was looking at me was terrifying. I wouldn't say that. I'd never say that.

"It's very unwise of you to not be the least frightened by me," he whispered in my ear. My neck was turned and I was staring at his right shoe.

"Please," I was genuine in my plea, "let me go. I won't say a word." Maybe I wouldn't. Maybe I would. I couldn't foresee the future or even predict my own actions. But maybe if he thought I'd surrendered to him he'd leave me be.

His right hand was resting lightly against my ribs. My eyes closed and I felt like I was suffocating. I was frozen too, completely unmoving, not even putting up a fight.

"You know what I think Granger?" His voice was low and soft again but mocking also. I grimaced knowing I'd hear what he had to say anyway. "I think you like me." My eyes fluttered open, wide open upon hearing that. He was still speaking directly into my ear though. He couldn't see my face. All the same, he chuckled a bit, probably assuming my reaction. "I think you like me, but that damned Gryffindor pride of yours is getting in the way of you telling me…or even admitting it to yourself."

I craned my neck and my nose brushed against his chin. I closed my eyes and swallowed, trying to steady myself.

"You are the most arrogant person I've ever had the misfortune of meeting," my voice was as low as his had been. It was sharp and I was grateful for it. I hope it stung.

He moved a few inches closer to me and laughed. His right hand, his free one, fell to my hip and caressed me through my robe. I had to say something smart before this went much further.

"Oh gosh, have I wounded your ego? Such a shame."

Then his abdomen was against mine. His hot breath was on my neck and I couldn't even form coherent words.

"Does that mean you're denying it?" he asked, his lips just barely touching my skin.

"Malfoy, don't," I said breathlessly.

"It's not like I'm going to rape you or even do anything you don't completely," he paused for dramatics, "and wholly….and genuinely," he breathed against my ear, "want yourself."

I couldn't think. Being in close proximity to Malfoy under such circumstances was apparently a very bad thing. And then he was kissing up my neck to my cheekbone. My eyes were closed and I could hardly believe I had no complaints to any of it. It's true- silence speaks for itself. I was completely immobile though, stiff as a rock. It wasn't like I was egging him on…I just wasn't saying no either. It felt…I sighed audibly. He heard it and moved from the hollow of my neck across my collar bone.

"Malfoy," I said faintly. It didn't sound like a protest to me and apparently not to him either. My arms were still being held over my head. "Malfoy," I said again this time sounding a bit disinclined.

"What?" he finally asked. He sounded outraged at my tone. I whimpered. But it wasn't the kind of sound that would incite him, or anyone for that matter. I was confused and at a disadvantage and longed for the familiar of my own bed. He let go of me like my flesh burnt him to the touch. My arms dropped to my sides and I stared down at my own feet. I couldn't look up. I couldn't speak. But this time I could think. My mind was in over-drive actually. What was I doing here? And why was he…doing _that_…with _**me**_?

I could tell from the shadows on the floor that he was standing just a few feet off, at an angle from me. First, we were arguing and then I was pinned against the bookshelf. What in the name of…? I didn't have time to finish my thought though.

"And I thought you may have actually not wanted it."

"I," I started too weakly for my own likeness, "I-I didn't."

"Granger, if you're going to lie, you've gotta learn to be more convincing than that." How condescending could one person get?

"I couldn't help-" But again, I was interrupted mid-thought.

"Yeah, you can give me all that bloody crap about how you can't control your body." He grimaced as he spoke as if disgusted by the excuse. Then his face lightened and he leaned back against the opposite bookcase with a sly grin. "But what I want is to know what you're _really_ thinking about inside that head of yours."

I felt my face heat up and knew that I must have been scarlet.

"Blushing?" he asked incredulously. "My, oh my. There must be some significant reason as to why you are so abashed. Ah," he took a chance to sigh dramatically, "who knew that beneath that cold exterior, you're actually lusting after me?" There was a long pause in which neither of us said anything. I was rendered speechless. I regretted not taking the risk and hexing him earlier.

This had to be the ultimate stare down of the millennium. He was expressionless making it impossible for me to read him. My face was still heated, this time from frustration and pent up anger…amongst other things.

"I wonder what you're truly thinking," he spoke aloud, "right at this moment." Now I knew what he was thinking. He was wondering what _I _was thinking. Well if that didn't just make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside…

"There's quite an easy and fast way to find out though. No sense in toying around when it's entirely unnecessary," his tone was lighthearted. It was disturbing. My breath hitched as I read into the statement. If ever given the chance to learn Occlumency in the future and prevent myself from ever feeling so vulnerable again, I would take it in a heartbeat. My lips were parted as I stared at him in horror. Anxiety made me want to double over. He watched me for a few seconds before frowning and understanding what I thought.

"Relax Granger," he said in an astonishingly reassuring tone, "I can't read your mind." I breathed a sigh of relief. He stared with a look of contemplation and then smirked. "…though that would make this entire ordeal much easier."

I simply glared at him. I still couldn't find the right words to assess my indignation with.

"But I like challenges," he said in that low, deep tone again. Then he straightened himself out and moved to take a step towards me.

I threw my hands out in front of me and suddenly found my voice. "Oh sod off Malfoy! Contrary to your conceited thoughts, not every female student attending Hogwarts wants you!" How could he…he didn't have any right to….where did he get off?! This was madness.

He was still, just a foot or so distance from me. "Then why," he stepped forward pushing me against the wall roughly, "do you have no objection to me doing this?"

His lips had found my neck again except this time I turned my head to grant him better access. I had to get a hold of myself. I parted my lips to speak, but as if he really did possess the ability to read my mind, he kissed me. I was in shock for a moment, remembering that I was supposed to be pushing him away and telling him to leave me the hell alone. But I found my arms encircling his neck and discovered to find myself returning the kiss with fervor.

My robes had dropped to the floor and now I was left in my school uniform. Malfoy was unbuttoning my collared shirt and sucking his way down to my chest. I arched my back and felt his hands tighten around my waist, holding me closer to him. I kissed him with passion I hadn't known I possessed; he seemed as taken aback as I. Then I felt one of his hands at the back of my knee lifting my leg up. The hem of my skirt rose higher and higher. I could feel it gliding across my skin. Then his fingers were tracing patterns up and down my thigh.

"Malfoy," I sighed. "Don't…" I never finished my thought. I didn't have the effort to speak anymore. All of this was insane.

"Stop?" he asked hoping to finish my sentence for me. That _was_ what I was going to say. It still infuriated me that I couldn't leave him guessing. His hand traveled farther up my thigh. My knee was at his side and if it weren't for his hold and the bookcase behind me, I would have crumpled to the floor.

"I have no intention in doing so," he spoke. "But I must inquire Miss Granger," he whispered huskily against my ear, "Are you included amongst the seemingly large percentage of girls here that don't want me?" His fingers were pressing against my knickers, which were more than moist. He added pressure and I moaned. This was the most erotic experience of my life as of yet and it was taking place in the _library_ of all places. How unethical.

_Thump, thump, thump. _It was someone's footsteps approaching. They sounded far away but loud enough to make us both stop what they were doing. He pulled away, carefully though, bringing my knee down and making sure I was steady before he let me go. And then he was walking away from the scene, carelessly so it seemed by his casual stance.

"See you later, Granger," he called back to me, still using a quiet tone.

I stared after him with wide eyes and then composed myself enough to put my robes back on. I took in a deep breath and walked away, sure that I would have looked ten times guiltier than Malfoy for anyone who would have seen.

AN: Okay, now that I've read it over…I realize how dirty it sounds when Draco and Blaise are vaguely discussing whatever book he's looking at. Or maybe my mind's just in the gutter.

Send me something, anything at all. Preferably a German Shepard puppy. But I'll settle for a review.


	2. Unrepentant

Disclaimer: Nothing at all.

AN: First, I have to thank all of you who reviewed, added this to your alert, etc. It made me quite giddy to see you enjoyed it.

Now I have to reveal something. I have a plan! A sketchy plan, written in pencil with a lot of arrows on it, but still…it's a plan. Anyway, onto this.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

"_The path to our destination is not always a straight one. We go down the wrong road, we get lost, we turn back. Maybe it doesn't matter which road we embark on. Maybe what matters is that we embark."_

I'd gone back to my dorm and found it to be a quarter after four in the morning. I decided against sleep. I was wide awake now, completely against my will; I was too contemplative. It was all his fault- _Malfoy's_ fault. What business did he have kissing me? Where did he get off thinking that he could just…just do that and think that I would…what? Swoon over him? Not likely.

…except that I had. Kind of. Sort of. A little. I sighed a sigh that only I could hear and rolled my eyes at the clearly stupid internal conflict within myself. I couldn't reject the obvious- I'd wanted it, somewhat. But there wasn't much I had been able to do really. Was there? It seemed that I'd crumbled beneath the weight of such implications…that I liked him, that I…wanted him any way at all…maybe…maybe I…

…could stay in denial and pretend that everything was normal and that I hadn't snogged Malfoy in the library…and enjoyed it. Yes, that sounded like a brilliant plan. I was good at repressing things, unpleasant or not.

I sat in a stiff, wooden chair by a long French looking window. It was still dark outside and all I could see was black through the glass. It was eerie, literally looking out into the unknown. For all I knew, something….someone could be out there, at this very moment, peering back in at me.

But strangely enough, the unknown wasn't what scared me. Most people feared the indefinite things in life; I cherished them. When things were in that indeterminate state, at that dividing line, there was still a chance for change. Those things that had yet to be identified and named were in that gap where they could still be influenced. To even have the ability to do that amazed me. Maybe it was too philosophical a thought to go about life with, but I couldn't give it up. I liked the idea of still being able to mould something, like clay.

I sat for a long while in a thoughtful state of immobility. I watched dawn encroach on the darkness and overwhelm it, so very overpowering. It was the inevitable. The black had no choice but to give way to the radiance of morning hours. It didn't even give way; it was simply overtaken, defeated without any hope at all of triumph.

I got up and stretched my body. It was sore and aching from the stiff position. I went through my predictable morning routine of getting ready and was soon sitting at the table amongst my friends in the Great Hall for breakfast. Across from Ginny, diagonal from Ron and seated next to Harry, as always. And, as always, I was hearing, but not necessarily listening to two completely different conversations taking place.

Harry and Ron were talking about Quidditch as to be expected. On my right there were several other girls, including Ginny, who were all gossiping about something or other. I couldn't follow any of it but could tell that it must be something juicy because they were all leaning in with huge grins on their faces. I ate my food in silence.

"Did you hear that she was with him the other night? Hot and heavy too. That's what I heard at least…"

My eyes widened at Lavender's voice and I looked up from my plate.

"But I thought he was dating-" I didn't catch the name though. I was looking down at my plate with a flushed face. Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson had broken up last week. Surely everyone must have known by now. It had been quite the event, a very pronounced public display. He'd shouted, she'd shouted, he'd shouted some more, she had cried angry tears and then she'd slapped him.

"Hermione, what do you think?"

I looked up again, this time with multiple pairs of eyes all looking at me expectantly.

"I really don't know," I said, not having a clue what they were talking about.

"It's absolutely _scandalous_, don't you think?"

I pushed around the food on my plate. "I suppose."

They returned back to their chat. I felt dismissed and relieved. I had no business talking about that which I assumed was some lust-driven couple. It was lowly and besides…if I had said anything, I would have been a hypocrite. I'd been sneaking around just last night with my '_him'_. Not that he was my _him_. Because he wasn't.

"I forgot a book. I'll see you guys later." I got up and snuck a glance at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was listening to something Zabini was saying. He was laughing happily and truly seemed to be enjoying his meal. I frowned that I had not been enjoying my morning so much and made my way out of the room.

…………………………………………………………………………………………

The day was extremely uneventful. Classes went by as usual, nothing the least bit out of the ordinary. Malfoy didn't try anything- no taunting, teasing, snobbery. Nothing at all. Strangely enough Malfoy had brought as little attention to him as possible all day long. It threw me off. I had to keep reminding myself at different parts throughout the day that something really had happened last night, that it wasn't all in my head. He didn't even look at me with indifference. There would be no chance for a show of apathy; he didn't look at me _at all_.

I was beginning to think that maybe it had all been a dream. Maybe my day was to be as regular as I was used to; that is, until I was caught off guard during dinner. I'd fallen asleep in between classes, exhausted from my lack of sleep the previous night, and woken a little after dinner had already begun. No one had woken me. I was walking hurriedly through the corridors, my stomach rumbling, when I heard him.

"Granger," his voice was untailored. I didn't even bother to stop walking or say anything. I continued on with my quick pace.

"_Granger_," he said a bit louder. I could hear his footsteps behind me, trying to catch up and keep at my fast rate. I purposely quickened the shuffling of my feet. "Granger," he said my name for a third time; this time it sounded like a harsh growl. "Is there somewhere you need to be? Is it a matter of life and death? Merlin _knows_ you have enough of those incidents. You should consider taking a break from the whole 'saving the world' deal."

I turned on my heel and he almost ran right into me. He was peering down his nose at me with an amused expression.

"As a matter of fact, there is someplace I need to be. Dinner, to be precise," I told him pointedly. "I fell asleep."

"Tired from your late night excursion?" He quirked an eyebrow at me. I gaped at him for a long while before turning around and continuing on without so much as a word. I heard his footfalls behind me and felt his presence right at my heels. The quote, 'If you don't understand my silence, then you don't deserve my words' rung throughout my skull.

"You're ignoring me because you're angry with yourself," he stated in a factual tone.

"I'm not ignoring you," I told him. "I'm simply avoiding your general presence."

Up until this moment, he hadn't given me a reason to avoid him. I wouldn't address the self appointed anger yet. I didn't know if I was angry with myself, and if I discovered I was, I surely wouldn't bring it to his attention. I could hear him chuckle from behind me. I was still walking, a bit slower now for my legs were growing tired.

"Ah," he said in an all knowing tone, "You thought I was going to leave you alone."

I rolled my eyes although he could not see it. "And I'm assuming that is part of your dazzling plan to make me miserable, right?"

"No," he replied seeming baffled. "It was part of my plan, but I'm not trying to make you miserable…"

"Good. You don't have to." Oops. I'd let that slip out carelessly. Lucky for me, he didn't even concentrate on that individual topic. I was happy he couldn't see my face, nor I his. I feared I misunderstood him completely.

"I wanted you to feel like everything was how it typically is, an average day…like nothing would change after what happened last night…"

I cringed and felt a head ache coming on. Why was he even telling me this? Wasn't revealing one's master plan supposed to come at the end, wouldn't doing so now take all the fun out of it?

"…and then snatch away that sense of security in hopes of…" And that's when it seemed he had lost his so very confident tone. He didn't finish his sentence, and I wasn't about to wait for him to find the time. I turned around swiftly and glared up at him.

"In hopes of _what_?" I asked through gritted teeth.

Malfoy looked down at me with incredulity. My temper had been set off incredibly quick. I wasn't sure why. My feeling of everyday kept being screwed up and it was all because of him.

"In hopes of irritating you beyond belief," he answered blandly. I knew it wasn't what he had intended to say, but I also knew I lacked the energy to get the truth out of him.

I stood; feet planted to the floor and stared at him blankly. Then, suddenly I was walking again. I heard him behind me and squeezed my eyes shut tightly in annoyance.

"Stop following me," was all I said before I scurried off. Only my own footsteps resounded in the empty hall.

………………………………………………………………………………………

I was sitting in a huge red chair next to the fire in the common room. A book in my lap, open to page seventy-four and seemingly unaware of the others around me. The heat felt wonderful on my skin and I had progressively been inching the chair closer and closer to the warmth.

I was restless, and not talkative. I felt bitter and was sure I'd utter the first rude thing that came to mind if someone tried to speak with me. It seemed everyone else assumed these things too for they all kept a fair distance from me. I was thankful for it.

I was _distracted_. What was worse is that I was distracted by my thoughts, my thoughts of _Malfoy_ and our little rendezvous. I couldn't decide if I liked the unexpected event that had taken place just because of the sheer interruption of monotony. I shouldn't even be hesitating as to whether or not I liked it. It should be a simple 'no of course not'. I closed my book to stand up and stretch. I turned around to face the various groups of people and smiled in an offhand way. I caught Ginny's eye and then glanced at Ron and Harry who both smiled and nodded at me.

"Hey guys, I'm going to the library." I wasn't sure where I was going, but it sounded like a decent excuse…a believable one, that's for sure.

"Okay 'Mione."

"Don't wait up, okay? I'll probably be there late." Shocker.

"Of course," Harry replied.

I had gone to the library at first. After a few hours, I got up and left. I couldn't bring myself to sit down with something and actually read. I didn't want to read. I wanted to do something, to act on impulse. So that is precisely what I did. I began wandering the halls, something I never did. I never ambled around aimlessly, without purpose or intention. I liked having a destination, somewhere I was making my way towards. That was not the case though. It felt nice, to for once, not have any idea where I was heading to.

It was late, I knew. I had long ago stopped passing by other students. Just passing by a suit of armor, I noticed something I'd never seen before at Hogwart's. I walked up to the stone wall with narrowed eyes. It was a cast iron candle holder that jutted out of the dark stone wall. It had a delicately shaped ribbon frame that wove around the candle stick itself. Emerging from the tip of the cream colored candle was a wick engulfed in a silver and gold flame. The colors entwined around one another and seemed to be fighting for dominance over the flame. I watched, intrigued.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

I gasped and turned around to see Malfoy leaning against a wall casually, with his arms folded across his chest. He was smiling at me, not smirking and not grinning, but smiling.

"Very," I replied. "I've never seen it before."

"They're new this year," he told me.

I furrowed my brow. "They?" I asked. "How many are there?"

He straightened out his form and walked over to where I stood. His tall, place figure created a dark shadow that enveloped me. I looked up at him hesitantly. He stood still and studied the candle as he spoke.

"They're all over the school, wherever they thought most convenient for people," his voice washed over me in a soothing way. I was shocked, to say the least. I'd been unsocial all day and suddenly I was being more than civil with him. It was insane. "An everlasting flame," his voice picked up again and I watched as he brought out a pale finger and ran it through the tip of the flame. He caught my eye and held my gaze. I was enthralled despite my resistance.

"It's not really perpetual though, only lasts a decade or so."

I nodded curtly in response. He was disrupting my silent, contemplative walk and I didn't mind. I should mind. I should have walked away by now.

"What are you doing here?" he asked me, enunciating each word carefully. It wasn't even an accusatory tone, simply a question.

I kept my face impartial and chose my words carefully. "Looking for someone." I hoped he didn't think into the phrase too much; I knew his arrogance could be overwhelming at times, and surely my terminology couldn't have helped, but everyone had a limit.

"And who might that be?" his voice was just as disinterested as I'd hoped it might be.

I wasn't looking at him as I smiled unashamedly. "I wish I only knew," I said as I ran my fingertips across the stone wall. I took a few small steps one way and then back tracked towards the candle again.

I was looking for something, or someone, and yet I had no idea what…or who. I just felt discontented and unfulfilled. It was already January and nothing interesting had happened this year. I suppose that was a good thing though, considering past events. No news was good news, right? But I was bored, as lame as that sounded. For weeks, I'd been hoping something would happen. It had. Careful what you wish for…

"You seem melancholy." I looked up to see Malfoy studying my features. It made me feel uncomfortable and I regretted being so friendly just seconds ago.

"Why do you care?" I asked coldly.

He replied simply, "I don't."

"Then don't act like you know me," I demanded.

"But I do know you, for the most part," he went on. I glowered up at him and furrowed my brow in confusion. I pursed my lips and waited. "Your best friends are Potter and Weasel-"

"Because no one could pick up on that," I scoffed.

"-but you tend to confide more in the younger Weasley girl when it comes to personal matters," he continued on as if I hadn't said anything. "You haven't missed an assignment in the past five years I've known you. You don't like Quidditch at all, but you like the spirit and unity beheld at the matches. You live in two worlds, one much more preferred than the other, that same one being a world of literature." He didn't even look smug, just careless as though he were reading out of The Daily Prophet.

"How do you know-" I started to ask but decided I didn't like the phrasing. "How did you…why do you think-" but I couldn't get the words out.

"I'm observant, Granger," was all he offered. I was silent, which was shocking as I most always had something to say. This boy seemed to have that effect on me. I hated it.

"What I want to know," he started again, "is what it is that you are avoiding so much in the real world to make you hide away in your books."

I clenched my teeth tightly. "I was not aware reading was frowned upon."

"It is to the extent at which you read and when it prevents you from actually living." His words sounded like there may have been a bit of feeling, maybe even passion behind them. He was losing his indifference.

I swallowed hard and straightened out my shoulders, looking up at him defiantly. "I am everything a well brought up girl should be."

"Yes," he smirked as if about to share a secret, "including unhappy."

Anger flared up inside me. "I'm not sad for Merlin's sake!" I didn't want pity and I didn't want people to take it upon themselves to point out any uncharacteristic feelings I might have been displaying. I _wasn't_ sad.

"Okay," he spoke, "maybe unhappy was the wrong choice of word."

I stared at him, my mouth agape and my dignity not feeling all there.

"You have no right!" I told him crossly. I wasn't even quite sure what I meant, but it sounded like it fit.

"Then who does?" he bit out. I took in short, frantic breaths trying to calm myself. "These candles have been here for months, Granger, and you haven't even noticed them until now. What the hell are you doing that has you so preoccupied?"

I didn't even have to think of what to say. It came so naturally. "Nothing that concerns you."

He paused for a moment. It seemed to have an impact of some sort. Then he turned to look at me. Malfoy was breathing heavily and his eyes were shining. And in one fleeting moment, he had stepped forward and grabbed hold of my arms. He was kissing me and I was rigid, completely surprised. One of his hands moved to my back and the other to the back of my neck. That's when I responded. I pushed him away with all the strength I could muster.

His usually pale face had a tint of rose color in the cheeks. He was looking at me, staring straight into my wide and befuddled eyes.

"What are you _doing_?!" I asked not understanding his intentions the least bit.

"You want it, dammit!" he burst out with in a frustrated tone. "What the hell is holding you back?"

"My sanity?" I offered, though I realized not a second later that it was the wrong thing to say; it implied that I agreed that I wanted him and that there was in fact, something holding me back. My breath hitched.

"What is it?" he pleaded with me. It was a desperate gesture, extremely out of character. It only baffled me that much more.

"What are you trying to _do_? I don't understand you at all," I stressed each word with feeling.

"I'm trying to prove a point!" he exclaimed throwing his hands up in the air and then running them through his hair. He turned around, pacing on the spot and then looked at me again.

"That you need to be brought to St. Mungo's immediately?" But it did make sense. If he had a point he wanted to prove, I was sure he'd follow it through. It was just like him. 'See, I'm right. Told you so.' I could understand that…

"That you're bloody well scared of actually doing anything that may have a consequence! You don't want to do anything that might upset anyone. You're too desperate to please, to quick to put a smile on someone else's face with no regards to your own happiness. You can read all the damn books you want, but half of the books in the world must preach seizing the moment and not wasting any time!" He paused only short enough to make sure he held my gaze. He was quite fired up for someone who had acted indifferent all day long. "What if this was your last year here, Granger? What if this was your last year to do what you wanted?"

I was outraged and quick to retaliate. "It's my life!" was such a weak thing to say, but the best I could come up with in my current state of aggravation.

"And you're wasting it!" Malfoy shouted at me.

I didn't understand why he was telling me this, why he had suddenly become so passionate about how I spent my time. Why did he even care? It was he who seemed to have a feeling of indignation and I couldn't grasp why.

I had no idea what I was doing- there was no rational thought or reason involved- but I stepped forward briskly, closing the gap between him and I and pulled his face down towards mine. His arms wrapped around my small frame and pulled me against him. I was held tightly against his chest by his iron grip and soon pulled away from lack of oxygen. He let go of me, but I didn't step away. I dropped my arms to my sides and just stood there, staring straight ahead. I was sure I probably looked mentally incompetent. He just stared down at me. I assumed he was trying to read my face.

"These are dangerous waters we're exploring," I told him once I'd found my voice, biting my lip. I was still very, _very_ confused. I didn't dwell on my uncertainty though- I was seizing the moment, and quite possibly reveling in just been baited.

"Definitely," he replied still studying my face. I glanced down for a moment before looking back up at his face.

"Thrilling, sure," I said. "And I think I may find it more exciting than daunting." My mouth was running away with me again and I didn't know how to stop talking. I was going to ramble on and on and he wouldn't even have the decency to tell me to shut up, would he? I didn't want to tell him anything and I didn't want to hear what he had to say. We'd both said and done _plenty_ already!

"If you're going to wade in the water, at least be careful of the sharks," he told me. His face was as indecipherable as ever though. I couldn't tell if the warning was about himself or about something different.

"I don't have to worry about sharks if I keep to the shallows," I said without reluctance.

He looked down at me and narrowed his eyes in thought. "I don't think that's so true, but even so, it still means that you'd never get to see the depths. I hear they're quite something."

I began shaking my head back and forth. "I don't like to go in the deep end." If things hadn't been complicated before, they most definitely were now. I hoped that we were thinking on the same wave length, and at the same time, I hoped the exact opposite.

Malfoy leaned down and ran a hand up and down my arm slowly. I closed my eyes at his touch. "I think you're contradicting yourself," he whispered against my ear. I was silent and motionless. "You're already in rather deep." He could not have been more right.

I gulped and took two huge steps back. He looked at me, his brow knit in confusion. Good, I hoped he was as confused as I. I shifted my weight from foot to foot in apprehension and then began running down the hall.

"What are you doing?!" he yelled to me. If I only knew…but I'd been asking myself the same question and still had yet to find the answer.

………………………………..

AN: Eh, I'm not so sure. As stupid as it may sound, I think it may have been more serious than I intended...tell me what you think.


	3. Secrets

AN: My goal of this chapter is to clear things up and establish a few things. Thank you fellow readers, reviewers, alert people and so on…

I was woken up at 8 o'clock in the morning by my mother screaming excitedly about my cat going into labor. She named the first one after a vampire. Jasper [can anyone make the connection? and we have yet to decide the next…

…………………………………………………………………………………

Drink up beautiful;  
I spiked your cup with angst, and a heart attack.  
I've got so much trapped and it's all because of you.  
So I figured you might like some back.

-Bayside

………………………………………………………………………………………..

To say I was perplexed would be the understatement of the year. Malfoy had been burning holes into my skull for the past three days with his concentrated stare. He knew I knew he was watching me. I could hear him laughing in the corners where the lighting's low and no one could see him; he could tell that I was shifting in my seat under the intensity of his gaze. He was making me uncomfortable and taking too much joy out of it. We hadn't spoken a word to each other though.

He'd missed lunch that day and was now currently missing a second meal that day. It was out of character for him to miss a meal. I didn't dwell on it though- it wasn't in my place to care. But I couldn't help but think about how strange his behavior was. In the library, he'd seemed very Malfoy-like, smug…and then he'd just seemed downright frustrated; with what, I did not know. He was troubled, I finally concluded. And why on earth was he so keen on getting me to…go along with it all? Participate- it seemed like a safe way to put it. He wanted me to want it, or wanted me to admit that I wanted it. Because, I did. I did want it.

My nemesis, my rival, my opponent for five and a half years…and I wanted him to _touch_ me. I was disgusted with myself. Of course, I still didn't understand him at all. So I wanted it, and wasn't about to deny it…well, to him I might, but not myself. And he _seemed_ to want it, but even if he did, I still wouldn't be able to grasp the reason behind it. Maybe he was just as without reason for the desire as I; maybe it was just some animalistic attraction that neither of us could ignore. Still, it was madness.

"Hermione, you okay?" I looked up and my elbow slipped, banging into the plate in front of me. My chin had been resting in my hand. How graceful of me.

"Yeah, fine, why?" I hurriedly said.

Harry and Ron exchanged a knowing look and then glanced back at me.

"Well," Harry started but then looked at Ron again.

Ron grabbed a roll and began picking at it. "It's just-" he held my gaze. "You kind of looked like your head was about to explode. No offense or anything, but you kinda resembled Crabbe and Goyle when they're in class."

I glared heatedly. No offense? Yes, because with an insult like that, I certainly wouldn't take offense or anything! 

"And you have barely touched your food," Harry added, probably hoping to distract me from Ron's previous comment. I looked down at my plate and saw that I hadn't eaten anything. I was preoccupied with my thoughts.

"Oh," I said as if just realizing it. I was just realizing it. "I'm just," I started, swallowing painfully under Harry's perceptive eyes. "Not very hungry. Besides, I should really be going anyway. I've got to get started on that essay for Snape."

Ron snorted with a mouthful of food and began choking a little. Harry nodded sympathetically at me, oblivious to his best mate's lack of oxygen. I returned the smile, got up off the bench, snuck a glance at the Slytherin table still absent of the notorious blond and left the Great Hall. I stopped by my dormitory to retrieve my bag and then wandered to the library. Truth be told, I really did have a Potions essay to work on.

I was now sitting at one of the many wooden, rectangular tables in the library. Parchment and ink sat in front of me, quill in my hand and yet I kept crossing out various sentences and phrases. I couldn't get my wording right. It looked awful. I knew I'd have to copy it over onto a new piece of parchment; that is, if I ever even finished it.

"Just as I suspected," a smooth voice came from someone off to my right. I looked up and saw Malfoy standing there, a bag draping from his shoulder. "School work. Don't you ever tire of it?"

Didn't he ever tire of the chase? Maybe the thrill really was just too much. I took a deep breath and began counting to ten, though I only made it to three before I opened my mouth to speak. "You're very ubiquitous."

He raised his eyebrows at me. "You think me to be omnipresent?" The look on his face was one of wonder. He could not possibly be surprised.

"With good reason," I bit out. He was _everywhere_ **all the time**!

"Oh Granger," he took a step forward and my eye twitched. "Tone it down a notch. I haven't even said anything offensive yet." I noted his use of the word 'yet'. I crossed my right leg over the left and folded my hand underneath the weight of my thigh. Nervous habit.

"What do you want?" I asked, hoping to get straight to the point. I knew it was unlikely though. With Malfoy, we always had to beat around the bush, play mind games, 'verbally spar' as he'd put it so eloquently. I took in his appearance, merely for the sake of observation, and saw that he wore jeans and a dark blue button up shirt. It looked dressy. I wonder what occasion had called for the more formal wear.

"Let's just talk," he told me. His face was blank, almost innocent looking.

"Talk?" I asked, disbelieving.

"Talk," he confirmed.

I stared at him. "Talk," I repeated, still not reassured at all. I didn't know how to talk to him- exchange insults, quarrel, and _snog_, apparently, but talk…no. He had taken a few steps closer and was casually standing beside the table peering down at me. Our voices were quiet and I was suddenly very aware of the other people around us. Though dinner was only probably just ending now, there were a good few many people in the library. A few of them were looking at me and him.

"Yes," Malfoy's voice came back to me. "The thing where you converse with another human being by using your mouth. A way of communication, you know." Sarcasm soaked his tongue.

"Shut up," I told him without acrimony and then added, "No touching?" None of this was right; it was all becoming increasingly out of the ordinary. He wanted to talk? I still didn't buy it. We loathed one another's very existence. We had no business talking. _Didn't stop you from letting him jump you the other night._ I swallowed at the memory. _Or from you initiating it all a few days ago. _No good could come of this. It was bound to lead to more wicked acts. Not that I was predicting it or anything. I did think more of myself than that- I hoped.

"No touching, just talking," he echoed back. I was debating it when he spoke again. "Not unless you want to…"

Something that sounded like a growl erupted from my throat. "That's not funny," I told him.

His thin lips upturned into a smirk. "I wasn't trying to humor you." Great, because that made me feel so much better. He couldn't possibly be attracted to me- that was a ludicrous thought. This was all part of some elaborate plan to put me under, or a bet maybe.

"Right," I said. I had little faith in the success of this 'talk'. He was still standing, staring down at me. I sighed exasperatedly and gestured to the seat across from me. "Sit down," I invited him.

He smiled slyly and patted the table twice before briskly stepping forward, pulling out the chair, and sitting down. I could almost feel the breeze from his quick movements brush against my face. With the air circulation came the faint smell of cologne. It was intoxicating and bad for my logical thought. 

"You okay there, Granger?" The question may have signified concern of some sort, but his tone implied sarcasm. I was used to it by now. I then realized that I was still staring at the spot where he'd just been staring. I craned my neck towards him too fast and grimaced. He crinkled his nose at the sight and then waited to see what I would do. At least, that's what I assumed he was waiting for.

I stared at him for a long moment. He had on his poker face. Malfoy leaned over the table and I mimicked the motion. It felt like he was challenging me; I was up for a challenge. I could hardly believe we were sitting down at a table, supposedly with the intent of having a civil conversation like normal people. His intentions could not have been any more cryptic. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to know what he was up to. But then again, not knowing definitely couldn't aid me in any way.

"What are you thinking?" he asked me, narrowing his eyes. I felt as though his expression now probably mirrored my own.

"What do you _think_ I'm thinking?" I asked as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. I was thinking about when he would pull out his wand and _Avada Kedavra_ me right there in the library despite the many witnesses. It was a common thought when my thoughts concerned Malfoy.

He smirked. "I think you're thinking about how much you want me." With that, he raised his eyebrows and leaned in just an inch closer. I clenched my teeth. I wanted to slap that stupid smirk off his face.

"Actually," I said in a very matter of fact tone, "I'm thinking about what a self-important, pretentious, haughty, pompous, arrogant, egotistical bastard you are!" I re-crossed my legs, but it did no good. Within seconds, I could feel my other foot cramping up already. I huffed loudly.

"Easy on the expansive vocabulary, Granger," he said calmly, "someone might think you're trying to hurt my feelings." His eyes sparkled.

I wanted to throw my hands up in the air and stomp in the most cliché of ways, but realized I would look like a fool if I did. "Do you feel the need to show off? Do you honestly think that highly of yourself? You hold yourself in the highest regard and yet you still feel the need to place every other person so very far below-" I spoke as if I could go on forever bashing one single person. And I could…so long as that one person was Malfoy.

But I was cut off by his voice. "Woah there killer!" he said hurriedly. He looked shocked at my outburst. Then confusion overtook his features as he lowered his hands to the table top again. "When was I showing off and when did this become about me being so condescending?" At least he wasn't denying it; but rather, questioning why I'd suddenly gone off on him for something that wasn't the particular topic of discussion.

"I just- you were- you're _always_-" But I was tongue tied. I opened and closed my mouth a few times without saying another word. I'd plead the fifth. My silence was probably the smarter choice. Speaking would only get me into more trouble, and Merlin _knows_ that wasn't what I needed at the moment. I wished I were somewhere else, so very desperate for any other location to inhabit.

Malfoy looked amused and openly flashed me a toothy grin. I simply glared at him. He was being much too lackadaisical for my taste.

"Why do you _try_ to set off my temper?" I asked rhetorically, knowing I would get a response, but not really an answer. 

"Why do you rise to the occasion?" He was smirking again. "How about I ask you a question and then you ask me a question, and we go back and forth?" His tone was friendly. His proposition was reasonable. I sighed feeling like an alien on a strange planet.

"Questions?" I asked curiously.

"Questions," he echoed the word back to me. I held his gaze. "I'm sure we both have questions."

I bit the inside of my cheek. "I'm sure," I repeated. Like why the hell he was so intent on this…this _thing_. 

His shoulders were hunched and he was still leaning over the table towards me. I was still inclined towards him as well. It probably entailed something else for a bystander taking in the scene. However, I was positive my scowling would shoo away those thoughts.

"Ladies first," he said with a wave of his hand.

I tried to keep my face blank as if to appear indifferent. I didn't want my appearance to sway any of his answers. 

"Why do you insist on making this more than a one-time deal?" Technically, it was a two-time deal. There had been two separate incidents. Accidents, really. Okay, I wouldn't go so far as to call them _accidents_. Unintentional happenings; yes, that worked.

"I told you before," he answered. "I'm trying to prove a point."

"What _point_?" I demanded to know. I was beginning to hate that phrase, _to prove_ _a point_. Blah, blah, blah.

"Ah, ah, ah," he said pointing a finger at me and wagging it back and forth in protest of my inquiry. "My turn," he reminded me. I crossed my arms in defeat.

"Why did you kiss me the other night…" His voice trailed off for a moment and then picked up again. "…when we were fighting…?" There was no hitting of a high note towards the end of his words and didn't sound like a question at all. It seemed more like he was reminiscing. 

I swallowed hard, already uncomfortable with where this was going. "I just- because-" Dammit! Why couldn't I seem to find words at all lately?

"And when answering these questions, we should be sure to answer truthfully," Malfoy interrupted my stammering. I didn't even have the energy to glare at him. I just openly gaped.

"I-I don't know," I answered, surprised at my honesty. "It just…happened. I didn't think about it."

"Really?" he asked, urging me to say more.

"It was spur of the moment!" I exclaimed. He laughed ever so softly in response and I decided he was satisfied with my answer.

"What were you and Blaise looking at that night in the library? Whatever it was that you weren't supposed to…" My no-nonsense tone seemed to throw him off a bit. Before he'd seemed giddy. Now he seemed flustered. His mood change had been noted.

His eyes were hard, resembling stones in a way, and his stare piercing. If he was trying to intimidate me, it was working. Though I did not back down. I remained inclined towards him, my face as determined as his.

"Different question," he said. His tone had no malice, but it sounded authoritative.

"But you said-"

"I said when answering, we had to be truthful. I'm choosing to not answer," he stared at me malevolently. If looks alone could do me in, he wouldn't need to _Avada Kedavra_ me right there in front of everyone. He had mood swings worse than a girl on her period!

"Why are you refusing to answer that specific question?" I asked him. I loved loop-holes. 

He sighed and rolled his eyes at me. "Because it's a secret," he answered and then added, "And because you're nosy and it's fun seeing you not get your way." 

Yet, I hated when people found ways around loop-holes. Now I had to pause my interrogation of him and answer whatever he threw at me. I hoped this was worth it in the end. 

"Why did you run away right after you kissed me?"

I wanted to groan, but didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was picking all the right questions. I decided not to delay the mortification.

"Because I was scared," I told him, not meeting his eye this time. I had to say more though. I was all for beating him at his own game and such, but I couldn't cheap out on an answer like this. It would have been pathetic and unfair. Not that Malfoy was ever one to play fair. 

"And confused," I went on, remembering how disoriented I'd been. "I just had no clue what was going on." My face felt hot and I stared down at the wooden table top, watching a shadow flicker back and forth from the flame of a candle sitting atop the surface. "Besides, I don't trust you at all Malfoy." That was the truth. I felt like the last part was necessary in answering the question, but futile in forming any foundation of a conversation. He already knew I didn't trust him. It was just stating the well known facts. 

"Good, I don't want you to."

I finally looked up to meet his gaze. His arms were crossed and his hair hung loosely, getting in the way of his eyes. His pastel skin seemed to glow in the candlelight. He was looking at me with a strange look upon his face; it was intense. Under his discerning stare, I shivered and nervously looked up from my hands to his face and back again.

Sometime amongst the awkwardness, I spoke. "You've never been one to care much about keeping another's secret." I spoke freely, lecturing him on his own traits.

"Your point being?" he asked impatiently.

"So then it must be your own," I stated casually. "I've noticed you missed both lunch and dinner today too. So what secret then, could be so very time consuming? It also seems to be putting you in terrible distress and I do not believe it is cause of the sheer exhaustion of keeping it, but whatever it is…it is that thing itself." I was biased, I know, but unless I was mistaken I sounded very much in the know. I was at an advantage with this new found confidence. I was tracing patterns on one of my palms with my right index finger when he spoke.

"You don't even know if that's the same reason I've been missing meals," he pointed out.

"But let's assume that it is," I said looking up to hold his eyes. I'd never seen a more vindictive stare. 

"And how can you be so sure that it is the thing _itself_ that is putting me in such distress? How can you tell?" I was aware both of these were questions, but to get an answer out of him, I had to go through the procedure. I didn't mind so much however.

My voice flowed carelessly and I was thankful to sound like the indifferent one finally. "Because you immediately tense whenever the subject is brought up…" No more than that needed to be said. I wasn't even sure what I was expecting him to say. Had there been a clear question asked of him? I could not recall. It had been such a complicated exchange of words.

"A risky, ghastly secret," he confirmed. I swallowed, supposing that with everything else I'd said, that was what I would have to settle for. My stubborn will was learning to bend a bit.

His eyes along with his entire stance were arctic. He was stiff and unapproachable looking, but he didn't look the least bit distance. No, he seemed to be very aware of his surroundings. I barely had time to process any more of my thoughts though- he was taking his turn before I had time to remember.

"Tell me Granger," he leaned in even farther. His face was only inches from mine and I could feel his breath on my face. My heart beat rapidly. Apprehension twisted about my gut. "If I were to tell you that I were the worst possible being, the most dangerous one here at Hogwart's," he paused, "…to be around right now-" He paused again, this time for a longer moment and I could tell he was studying my expression. "-would you stay away?"

I was terrified that I already knew the answer; the answer to a question I never thought, not in my wildest dreams, would be asked of me.

………………………………………………………………………

AN: …to be continued.

Oh, and I've named him Horatio. Hehe. Of course…what happens if these turn out to be girls, I have not the slightest clue…

Also, to actually address something that concerns the story: I'm updating generously because of the so very obvious lack of school. 


	4. Surrender

Disclaimer: No, not at all, never ever

AN: Yes, yes, update. You all rightfully deserve this for waiting so long. I've been busying myself with another story….one which no one aside from myself reads. Selfish, eh? And then I finally got to see Atonement, which I had been anticipating for weeks.

Enough of my rambling…

I am the son and the heir of a shyness that is criminally vulgar

I am the son and the heir of nothing in particular

You shut your mouth, how dare you say I go about things the wrong way

I am human and I need to be loved just like everybody else does

_Previously…_

"Tell me Granger," he leaned in even farther. His face was only inches from mine and I could feel his breath on my face. My heart beat rapidly. Apprehension twisted about my gut. "If I were to tell you that I were the worst possible being, the most dangerous one here at Hogwart's," he paused, "…to be around right now-" He paused again, this time for a longer moment and I could tell he was studying my expression. "-would you stay away?"

I was terrified that I already knew the answer; the answer to a question I never thought, not in my wildest dreams, would be asked of me.

…_..Continued…._

I stared at him; simply stared, openly gawked. Bile rose in my throat. I was distinctly aware of how hot my face felt. His stare was piercing and much more pronounced than mine was; of that I was sure. I tried to swallow, but it did no good.

"I-" And then I paused, breathed, and began again. "How- y-you shouldn't even be-" I watched a smile pull at his lips and glowered. "How dare you ask me that as if I'm the one that won't stay away?!" My voice was louder than necessary and I was thankful to see with a glance around the room that all but half a dozen people had left. "You are the one that has practically been following me around!"

His stare turned into a scowl. "Granger," he bit out. "Calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down!" Him telling me to calm down! Ha. Like I was in the wrong. No, no. He was the one gallivanting about the school and just happening to run into me around every corner; he was the conniving little ferret that seduced people in libraries!

"At least lower your voice." His voice was low and sharp but I couldn't appreciate the threatening quality of it.

"Malfoy, you are utterly ridiculous!" And in one swift motion, he was hurrying around the table to where I sat and watching something behind me as he did so. I craned my neck and saw a first year Gryffindor boy looking at us with wide eyes. Then I felt a tug at my wrist and turned back around to see Malfoy forcibly pulling me from my seat. "What are you doing?" I asked, hearing the dramatically lower volume.

He tugged at me and before he yanked my hand clean off of the rest of my arm, I got up to stand before him. Malfoy still didn't let go of me though. I wasn't sure if it was to restrain me from causing him physical harm or if he thought I was going to run away. Either way, caught in his grasp, both would have been ineffectual attempts. My feet were moving against my will and I was only vaguely aware of being dragged between the bookshelves.

"Did you see the look on that bloody kid's face? He must think you've gone mad!" He said this as he pulled me along with him, glancing around every bookcase as he did so. His watchful eyes seemed to imply that he was checking for people that may be in close range…or rather, close enough range to hear or see us.

"I probably have!" The noise I made as I said it sounded something like a growl. "Anyone that's seen us sitting at a table together _talking_ must think one of us has lost our minds!" It was true. What did those people think? I wasn't even sure if I would have chosen to know if I could have. As my words reached his ears, he turned around and finally stood motionless. He was silent as he stood there, staring at me. There seemed to be a lot of staring going on between us. I hadn't decided yet if it was because of lack of words or if those words we did have simply should not be spoken aloud.

It was dark in the aisle where we stood. A slanting shadow was at the end, roughly ten feet away I guessed. His usually ghost-like face looked paler than ever.

"We are mere acquaintances," I said as I looked up at him from under my eyelashes, "Stop making such an effort." I knew that acquaintances wasn't the right word- we'd known each other for years, spent countless forced hours together-enough time to despise one another. We were not, under any circumstances, to be considered any type of friend. But we were not strangers. What were we? Acquaintances seemed like the closest thing to defining our relationship…aside from enemies, of course.

"You never answered my question." I swallowed but continued to stare right up at his face. I tilted my chin up defiantly and wobbled unsteadily on my own feet.

"No!" I answered loudly, shocked at the sudden intensity of my own voice. Just as I went to jerk my wrist out of his hold he yelled "Dammit!" and let go, thrusting my arm back at me. I stumbled backwards and caught myself. I watched as he turned himself around in a circle, gripping at his hair tightly.

I was hesitant with anything involving Malfoy but still; I wouldn't stay away if he suddenly stopped initiating everything. It was all too involved now. Was it appalling though that I'd given this so much thought, and that I was so reluctant with every step I took? Some people might think I was brave for taking any steps at all- all of this could be classified as The Unknown. Others might think my uncertainty and deliberation was cowardly; who knew, maybe it was. But were those the crazy, reckless people that didn't think before acting, or rather; were those the valiant characters that stood out from others, but not with the intention of doing so?

I didn't have time to be amused at my own contemplation though. Now he was a few feet away, seeming to keep his distance. He wouldn't look at me though, and I wondered why he couldn't seem to meet my eye.

"For supposedly being the brightest witch of your age, you're being bloody _stupid_." He sighed nervously in between certain words as if he were extremely uneasy about the entire ordeal.

I couldn't bring myself to be upset about the insult. I could tell it was only half-hearted anyway- he meant something different.

"Do you _want_ me to stay away from you then?" I asked bitterly.

"I want things to be different!" He spun around suddenly facing me now. He was smiling slightly despite the words we exchanged. I felt as though something was about to happen- it was that familiar feeling when you sense that your life is staged and everyone has a script. You can just tell when something of significance is about to happen.

"What are you talking about?" I demanded for the millionth time. I wouldn't get a coherent answer, but I didn't know what else to say.

"Granger, what do you want?" he asked me in a desperate tone. I didn't understand why he would be asking such a question. He was never one to care about what others wanted. Selfish-that's what he was, or at least what he was supposed to be. He bent his knees a bit, as if to plea with me. "What do you want?" he repeated, this time much more angrily. I didn't like the desperation or anxiety in his tone. He seemed like he was mad at me, but I didn't understand why.

"I want you to touch me!" I shouted at him.

This would have been the moment for him to rush forward and kiss me. But no; he was going to torture me with his slow, small steps forward. Instinctively I backed away from him and watched his parted lips until my back hit the bookcase behind me. I gasped and gripped at it with both of my hands. All acts of anticipation. If any part of me at all were frightened of him, it only added to the thrill.

He was just inches away from me now, but still not touching me in any way. Then he reached out a hand and brought it to my face. I closed my eyes and gave in solely to my sense of touch. He caressed from my temple down to my chin.

I knew that this thing, whatever it was to be called, couldn't keep going on like it had. It couldn't stand like a needle on point- it was to go either one way or another. To be demolished, crushed completely…or, so to say, we could dive into it. In or out. Which was I? I was definitely in. If I wasn't aware of my own willingness before, then permitting him to sit down at a table with me and _talk_ was my subconscious speaking for me.

And then I felt his fingers close around my straightened arm, at the elbow and his thumb pressed against the inside. I yelped, twisted my arm out of his grasp just as he instinctively let go; I pulled my arm to my chest protectively. I opened my eyes to see him looking at me with a baffled expression. He'd let me go but hadn't moved from where he stood.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Since when doesn't it matter to you if something is wrong with me?" I knew it was harsh but I didn't care. Anything to redirect his train of thought…

I noticed his jaw tighten but he didn't glare at me with hatred like I expected. "I care when you tell me you want me to touch you and then you don't let me." He put emphasis on certain words and I grimaced visibly at the phrasing.

"It's nothing, really." It sounded weak, even to me. I knew he wouldn't let it go that easily. He stared at me with an intense look in his eyes. My confidence dwindled only further. I sighed before I spoke again. "I-I just don't like people touching me there."

"Why?" he asked simply.

"I don't know," I lied. "Just…it's nothing." I was staring at his chest now, not wanting to meet his gaze. I had to admit it was intimidating.

"Tell me." It wasn't even a demanding or unkind tone. Still, I knew how quickly he could change tones. There was a long pause where I contemplated whether or not to speak. Fleeing was not an option; he wouldn't have let me escape with a shred of dignity if I tried.

"When I was seven," I started, already not liking revealing a secret about myself to him. "I was in a pageant and afterwards my parents had scheduled-"

"What's that?" This time I looked up to see him looking genuinely confused. He was very tall I realized as if for the first time. It's an obvious observation but I'd never really taken it into account, I suppose. I wished we weren't still standing where we were but I didn't dare ask to move or go somewhere else.

"A pageant?" I asked. Seeing him briefly nod, I continued. "It's a muggle thing where girls get dressed up in frilly white dresses and compete."

"For what?"

"A crown," I answered. As if with an epiphany, I realized how idiotic the entire thing really was…or must sound, at least, to him.

"_Why_?" he asked. My suspicions were confirmed; he thought it was frivolous and couldn't grasp the idea either.

I furrowed my brow and replied with, "I don't really know."

"Continue," he said curtly.

"I had an appointment to get blood drawn right after the pageant, just standard stuff. I wasn't sick or anything. So we drove there immediately after it ended and I was sitting there, clad in a white dress and fancy shoes when the woman dropped the second vile of blood…" I recalled the incident with a frown and then added, "…all over me. Red splattered all over." It really had been awful. The smell of it too.

"So that's why you don't like anyone touching the inside of your elbow?" Malfoy asked me. He still sounded a bit perplexed. It was harder to explain than I thought, I guess.

"Yes," I said. "I just associate that with…_that_. It was terrible. I almost had a panic attack." The conversation seemed to flow too easily for me to even regret admitting it to him. He'd surely use it against me in the future, embarrass me. It was a weakness of mine, and now he knew it. Trying to focus on something else, I realized how quiet it really was in the library. It must be getting late. That was both a good and bad thing- people were leaving. Less people to happen upon us…but then again, less people as witnesses or to use as an excuse to have to go.

Then I felt something hot against my face and realized that it was Malfoy leaning in close to me, his breath coming slowly. His eyes glimmered in the dark.

"Come here," he said softly and took hold of my hand. I was thoroughly surprised when he pulled me a few feet away from the bookcase I'd had my back up against. We were still in the shadows though, remaining undetected.

I stared at him with a look of confusion as he smiled slightly standing in front of me. He had both of my hands in his as he slowly brought my arms up into the air, the way a person does to act like a bird or an airplane…like they were flying. My arms made two perfect right angles and he still had not let go of my hands. I feared that my own hands would get sweaty but for the time being, they were perfectly dry.

"Close your eyes," he told me. What the hell was he doing anyway?

"Are you insane?" I asked him with a laugh. I stared at him incredulously.

"No," he replied simply. "Now close your eyes."

I wrinkled my nose at him. "Do you think _I'm_ insane?" There was no chance that I would stand like that- not having a clue why- and then close my eyes…with the knowledge that _Draco Malfoy_ stood before me. Yeah, who'd have the upper hand then?

"Granger," he addressed me casually. It was nice to hear him not sound so mysterious. "What do you think I'm going to do? Honestly?"

I gulped. "Hex me," I told him plainly.

"I'm not going to _hex_ you." His words still did not reassure me however.

"Or curse me?" I asked. Under normal circumstances, him telling me anything would not restore any confidence in his intentions. However, these were not normal circumstances. No, not at all.

"Or curse you, dammit!" He sounded more frustrated than angry though. For that, I was grateful.

So maybe there was a chance that I'd do something stupid like that. I closed my eyes out of choice rather than defeat. Panic fought to overcome me. I couldn't see him, couldn't hear him and I had no idea what he was up to. Merlin, he was right. I was stupid.

He let go of my hands. At once I felt my arms as if they were dead weight. And then his hands were on my waist from behind and his lips were on my ear. My breath hitched and I shivered involuntarily. I tried to remember to breathe. His hands left my hips and found my hands again, this time pulling them above my head. I was surprised that his movements were so smooth.

"Do you trust me?" he whispered against my neck.

"Should I?" I asked nervously. I couldn't see how either a yes or no answer would get me anywhere. _Yes_ and he'd get mad and tell me I was stupid again; which was true, but still- who wanted to be called stupid? Plus, he probably wouldn't continue on. _No_ and he wouldn't do whatever he was going to do. Curiosity was still dominant over my fear, proving the very fact that I was being an idiot. And I couldn't even go with the whole '_just answer truthfully_' thing because I had no idea what I believed myself.

"Do you?" he asked again.

I blurted out the first word that would form. "No." His breathing seemed to stop, if only for a moment.

"Are you lying?" This boy was just full of questions.

"Maybe," I answered. He chuckled against my hair and began moving my arms back to their previous position.

"I know that I'm contradicting everything I've said before," he spoke slowly, not in a hurry at all. "But would you be willing to trust me just right now?" I could barely hold myself up. Who was I kidding? In my current state, I'd probably walk to Hell and back for him.

"I think I could do that," I told him, my voice as unsteady as my limbs.

"You'll really commit to it?" I didn't know what he was getting at but my thinking process was not working all that well. I might as well have been immobilized for Merlin's sake.

"Yes."

"Don't be scared." I could hardly believe he said that. He'd implied that he was dangerous, which I _apparently_ **did **need reminding of, and constantly told me to be cautious...well, not in so many words, but still.

Then I realized what he was doing. His fingertips were grazing my skin from my wrists and up, up, up. My breathing was shallow. "Ssshh," he whispered to me as he caressed the flesh that I would never let anyone touch. He distracted me –efficiently so- by kissing my neck. After a minute or so his hands left me; his front remained pushed up against my back.

"You are completely defenseless," his voice drifted softly. "I could kill you right now if I wanted to…"

"Malfoy," I warned and protested at the same time.

"I'm not a sadist, Granger," he told me.

Then his fingers were running up and down my sides, then over my ribs. I felt the strain of my heavy arms and was suddenly dizzy. I was incapable of thinking; at least about anything other than the weight of my own limbs. As if knowing my thoughts, his left hand took mine and pulled it against my middle. I sighed in relief and frowned when he stepped away from me. I could feel it; the absence of another body near me. Where was he? He was going to leave me here, all alone with my eyes closed thinking that he was going to come back when he really wasn't. I was going to be humiliated. Completely embarrassed.

All my thoughts of humiliation and doubts of him still being there left me as I felt him holding my right arm. His lips kissed my skin and I savored the feeling. Soon, too soon for my liking, he'd let my arm go and was behind me again. He stretched my arms out again like I was a bird and held my hands. I fought back a groan; I was trying desperately not to just let my arms fall to my sides.

"It's okay," he said as he moved his hands to rest underneath my forearms. Apparently he knew how much effort I was putting into it. "You don't have to carry all your weight." The way he said it made it sound like he was speaking both literally and metaphorically as well. I didn't have time to dwell on it- his lips were on my neck again.

"So," he began, "being exposed in multiple ways as you are now, and having the illusion of some sort of trust in me…" I didn't correct him; not sure if it would be a false correction and/or would upset him. "What is it you want right now?"

My answer was so soft I wasn't sure if he would be able to hear me. "Touch me." I could barely believe I wasn't bothering to resist anymore. But why go half way with something, right? Bad idea…very bad idea. _Stupid_ idea, honestly.

He had heard me though. I was thankful I didn't have to repeat myself. "I am touching you." He just had to be so technical about it.

"Kiss me," I said, unwilling to go into the specifics of other matters.

"I am kissing you," he reminded me yet again. There was a lump in my throat now. Due to lack of response, I was silent. I had gotten past the initiative shock that of all people, Draco Malfoy would be the one kissing my neck. He continued working on my neck and holding up my arms for me.

"Granger," he said after a moment. I squeezed my eyes shut more tightly.

"I don't think I want to do this anymore," I told him tensely. I was too stubborn. But I was in, right? Wasn't I in this?

Swiftly, he brought my arms down to my sides and turned me around a bit. I felt his hand on my face and then his lips on my own. Forgetting my uncertainty, I kissed him back and eagerly let him part my lips. It wasn't hard and it wasn't soft- it was somewhere in between. Maybe it was defining.

"Library's closing! If anyone's still in here, you better pack up and go!" a voice bellowed. I pulled away from Malfoy and he let me, but wouldn't allow me to get out of his hold.

"We have to go," I whispered quietly to him.

He didn't acknowledge that he had heard me at all. "Meet me tomorrow after dinner."

"Where?" I asked.

"Here," he replied. Though his body was still, I could tell he was nervous about Madam Pince finding us by the way his eyes moved around frantically in their sockets. But he was waiting for some reply from me.

"Okay," I answered softly.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Okay!" I said again. Then we went separate ways and left the library. I could feel this becoming part of a routine.

AN: Do they have pageants? Hm. Anyway, tell me what you think. Oh and did I mention my thanks to all of you lovely people? Well really, thank you.


	5. Surprises

AN: Well, well…thank you so very much for the support and such

AN: Well, well…thank you so very much for the support and such.

I apologize for such a long wait! I had this all typed up and ready to update Saturday night but I had to abruptly right as I was sitting at the computer leave for New Jersey. Anyway, here it is…

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And I shed my soul, feel it kneeling down

I'm clutching my faith, pull it tightly around

You're moving your mouth, but you don't make a sound

But I feel the walls slowly tearing down

-Kristen Barry

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We had sex last night. Me and Malfoy. Hot, crazy, wild sex. On the floor.

….No, not really. But in my dream we did. I'd woken up sweating and had immediately thrown the covers off of myself. I was panting and my hair clung to my sweaty face. I was just glad no one had witnessed the entire thing. A blush crept up my cheeks at the very thought.

Was it possible to have such smutty thoughts when you'd barely done anything with a guy? The answer was inescapably yes. If it hadn't been proved before, it was now. Yet again, I thanked Merlin that he couldn't read my mind.

Right now I was making my way down to the Great Hall a tad later than usual. But it was understandable too. I wanted to wait for the other girls to leave so I could get ready in peace. Surely I'd get more than a few questions if they'd seen me all flustered like that. My throat constricted whenever I let my mind wander to the dream. About twenty minutes after I'd woken up, I'd made it a rule that I wasn't allowed to think about it. Needless to say, I'd failed miserably at following my own rule. Besides, saying 'you can't do such and such' just makes you want to.

You know those moments where you walk into a room or run into a group of people and you can very easily tell that they were _just _talking about you? They have that identical look on their faces; an expression only the guilty wear. And then there's the tension and awkwardness that you just cannot get past even when you go your separate ways. Or when you're just entering a room and then everyone stops what they're doing and turns to look at you. There's no subtlety or discretion, because there's no need for it. Everyone knows about everything. Or so I thought when I entered the Great Hall.

At least two thirds of the people craned their necks to look in my direction. Harry, Ron, and Ginny included. I spared a glance at the Slytherin table. Malfoy stared right back at me, his face blank. I could see people whispering to those who sat shoulder-to-shoulder with them. Hushed whispers and probing eyes. I swallowed hard and stared straight ahead of me, not seeing a thing, and started walking. I concentrated hard on not tripping. I found the bench in front of me after what seemed like a half hour of mortification and took a seat next to Harry. Ron was great- really, he was- but he ate like there was a wide spread famine.

I sat, looked down at my plate, picked up the proper utensils and began to eat slowly- small bites, as not to choke and draw more attention to myself. I was waiting for the boisterous voices I was used to to start back up again. That's how the Great Hall is supposed to be- people bustling about, loud and eager to socialize. Amongst the hushed whispers, regular conversation began again. I closed my eyes and saw bright spots before opening them up again to the bright eggs on my plate. Bright, happy yellow –like sunshine- mocking me. They were all mocking me. Even my breakfast was mocking me.

"Er, Hermione…" It was Harry's uncertain voice that spoke from my left. I tilted my chin up just so slightly to meet his eye. I tried to ask him a simple 'Yes, Harry?' but my parched throat wouldn't allow it. I picked up a goblet of pumpkin juice and took a sip. I shakily set it back down, only letting a little bit spill over the top. Harry did not fail to notice this.

"Yes, Harry?" I finally managed. I could see Ron shoveling food into his mouth and cringed a little. My stomach churned.

Harry pushed around food on his plate, looking almost as uncomfortable as me. And that was quite an accomplishment, because I set the bar high. "Don't you, you know, wanna know why everyone's staring at you? I mean, unless you already know…"

I folded my hands under my thigh as I crossed one leg across the other. It was a nervous habit that generally worked out in my favor. At least then I couldn't do anything stupid with my hands.

"Well, I mean," I stared, choosing my words carefully, "I might know what they're talking about. But…well who knows. You know those crazy rumors people come up with. It's all rubbish. You'd probably be better off hearing Rita Skeeter's take on it all." I laughed abruptly; it stopping as quickly as it had started. I sighed uneasily and waited for the worst.

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"I heard the poor kid was terrified of her." I looked up from rubbing my hands on my napkin to see Blaise addressing me. Nott sat across from me, staring interestedly at something off to my left where the entrance to the Great Hall was. I followed his gaze to see none other than Granger standing there, her bushy hair as unruly as ever, looking like a house elf after realizing that its said something nasty about their Master.

"Yeah, how many times have we all heard Granger yell before?" Theo asked casually. I lifted my head again to see if she'd moved. She hadn't. She looked around the room frantically, finally meeting my gaze. I simply stared at her. I couldn't bring myself to glare or scowl. And then I looked away.

"I could count the numbers on one hand," Blaise answered and nudged my shoulder. I looked up, mouth slightly open, and waited to hear what he'd say. Innocent until proven guilty. "What'd you do to piss her off anyway, Draco?" He, and everyone else, knew I'd upset her but didn't know why and didn't know that we had been talking civilly. Much better than I thought.

"Oh," I said. "I just went over there to make my usual mudblood remark to her. I don't know what set her off." It would bring bad karma upon me if I were to take full credit and make up a story about why she'd gone off. I didn't need anymore bad karma; I had plenty as it was.

"Well the Gryffindor said Granger looked as though she'd lost her mind," Theo added as he pushed away Pansy's hand that was crawling up his thigh. I couldn't help but smirk a bit. Thank Merlin I'd finally gotten Pansy to lay off.

"She probably has gone insane," I spoke up, feeling much more relieved at the entire ordeal.

Blaise sniggered. "Yeah, it's the quiet one's you've gotta watch out for." We all directed our full attention to one another as Granger made her way to her own table. "You suppose she's a wild one in bed too?"

I coughed involuntarily and hunched over uncomfortably. I felt Blaise patting me on the back forcefully. "Oi! You okay there Draco?"

I recovered quickly enough. "Yeah," I answered breathlessly. "It's just, the very thought of it turned me off. That's all."

I looked down at my food again and heard Blaise say something about how no one would know anyway because she's such a goody-goody. I bowed my head even lower. I was sure my forehead would be touching the food if I bent down anymore. Blaise was right. She might as well be the epitome of perfection- except for her hair of course- but I couldn't meet Theo's eyes when I heard him speak my name. My mind was occupied of thoughts of Granger and how the very thought certainly did not turn me off. The exact opposite, in fact. And that, in all actuality, was what had made me cough. I was appalled with myself.

I pretended to be interested in something the bloke next to me was saying about Quidditch. Still, I could feel the curious eyes of Blaise and Theo on me.

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"A first-year in our own house said that you went mad in the library yesterday." I stared blankly at Harry, waiting for the catastrophe. "I heard Malfoy did something to you." Ginny and Ron were now listening intently, interested in what I had to say in response to it all.

"Did something to me?" I asked in a low tone, wrinkling my brow. How much did they know? How much did _anyone _know?

"Yeah," said Harry. "You know, to set you off…"

I looked from him to Ron to Ginny and then back again. "I was just really stressed about school and everything. He just went too far is all." That wasn't a lie. He'd definitely gone way too far. We both had. Too far? Anywhere down that particular road is too far for us.

"So you really did scare that little boy, Hermione?" Harry asked me. That's when it really hit me- that's what everyone was talking about. Me going mad yesterday. No one knew about me and Malfoy and our snogging sessions. They had no idea we had a thing. That boy had just told people that I, Hermione Granger, had finally lost it. They thought I'd cracked.

And then there was no helping me. I did the only thing I could do- laugh. It started out fine, just laughing lightly at the irony of the whole thing. But then I couldn't stop. I was hysterical. Ron laughed at me laughing, which only made me worse. Harry and Ginny looked both baffled by my reaction and worried for my sanity.

I gripped the table in front of me with both hands, knowing my face was probably purple. "I-can't-breathe!" I choked out. After a minute or so, I finally calmed down.

"What in the bloody hell was that about?" Ron asked me.

I paused, not knowing what to say. I settled on, "I don't know." Harry simply shook his head and continued to eat.

"You sure, 'Mione?" Ron asked me. I frowned; his mouth full, his face filthy. "'Cause if Malfoy did something, then I'll just march over to him in front of everyone and hex him on the spot." Threats- exactly how I loved to start off my mornings. That along with the entire school staring at me and hysterical fits of laughter.

"No, it's perfectly fine Ronald. I over reacted." Ginny and Harry exchanged a glance as if it was so unusual for me to say something like that. The topic of discussion was switched to Quidditch and I quickly finished my meal before excusing myself.

I'd just stepped upon a staircase when it jerked suddenly and began turning around in the opposite direction. I frowned angrily. Apparently I took my good luck with the changing stair cases for granted. I tapped my foot impatiently and then hopped off the stairs trying to decide which way would be the better one to go. I had Potions to get to (though I'd already left early enough), but I needed my bag and books for that.

I turned to my left and recognized my unfamiliarity for what it was- lack of observation. I didn't notice anything around me. Malfoy had been right- just like he was about the candles. I was facing a wall; a dead end. I turned on my heel to see where that led to. I gasped loudly- speak of the devil.

"Malfoy," I addressed him without any emotion in my voice. He was just inches from me. If I had leaned forward just slightly my head would have been nestled against his chest. I took a step back without making it too obvious I was trying to get away from him by putting physical distance between us. He noticed- he always noticed.

"Avoiding my general presence again Granger?" His eyebrows were raised, his tone incomprehensible. I swallowed. Actually, no. But now that he mentioned it, it probably was a much better idea. I remembered my dream and immediately looked down at the floor. This, also, did not go unseen by him. His eyes were scrutinizing; I didn't want to look at him.

"You're blushing," he pointed out. I glanced up at him and then back down at my feet. I shifted my weight from foot to foot and stepped sideways and then a few more inches away from him. "Why?"

"No reason," I answered too quickly. I doubted that I could have been more obvious. Malfoy stepped forward. I took a step back. It seemed like a routine; us shuffling our feet that is. Do a little dance, make a little- I didn't finish the thought.

"Feeling batty this morning or do you want them to have you committed?" he asked me.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Lie. Besides, I'd spoken too quickly again. He huffed in disbelief. Still, I refused to look at his face. But looking at his chest wasn't helping matters either.

"You were hysterical at breakfast. You were handling everything so well until you started laughing like a lunatic. Really, it was maniacal." I cringed. That bad, huh?

"I thought- I thought they knew," I tried to explain to him. Timidly, I raised my eyes and met his gaze. I wish I could go back to the days when I didn't attain the knowledge of how handsome Malfoy really was. We were slowly moving back towards the dead end wall. It was inevitable I figured.

"If they knew…" His voice was slick, confident. He leaned down a little and seemed to shadow over me. "Do you really think I'd have been in there?" Everyone was mocking me today. I flushed again, this time becoming conscious of my own stupidity. Of course Malfoy wouldn't have been at breakfast if everyone knew about what we'd been doing…

"You're as red as Weasley's hair," he said, seeming both curious and disgusted at the thought of Ron's family trait.

I wrung my hands apprehensively. I'm a Gryffindor. I was supposed to be courageous and brave, daring! And look at me now…swooning over a boy who hated me. This was not how it's supposed to go. I stopped scuffing my feet and raised my chin high in the air, looking up at his tall figure. He stilled also, waiting for me to speak. "Is there something you'd like Malfoy? I thought we had a scheduled time for a reason…because it's really not appropriate for us to be doing this in public-"

He strode forward, causing me to stumble backwards a foot or so. "Doing _what_ Granger? I hardly think the two of us talking is inappropriate." I didn't like this. It was too early in the morning for all of this. My head hurt.

"Malfoy, you know what I mean-"

He ignored my comment, as always. His eyes were narrowed and his lips parted. His white collared shirt was unbuttoned at the top. I bit my lip. "I've never seen you blush like this. Honestly, do I just have that effect on you or..?" He seemed to contemplate an idea he had. "Or-" he started, taking another few steps forward and pressing me up against the wall. I closed my eyes. "Or," he whispered in my ear. "Are the other guys right? Do you have naughty thoughts? Is that what's making you blush?"

I felt my face heat up even more. My entire body felt hot. My clothes were too tight and too heavy. His cheek rubbed against my temple. I ran my hands up his chest and to his neck. I answered him by pulling his face to mine, connecting our mouths. I kissed him hungrily, reveling in the feeling of his hands on me.

"Do you like this? The fact that anyone could walk up and see us? The spontaneity of it all…" His voice drifted in and out between bruising kisses.

I tugged at his collar a bit before finding the first button that was done up. I undid it and found the next one below it. And so it went on as he ran his hands across my thighs and rested them on my hips, pulling me closer and tighter against him. I pulled his shirt apart, thrilled that the buttons were no longer separating me from his bare chest. I trailed my lips across his muscles before pulling my head back to marvel at it.

That's when I saw it- something I didn't expect to find. There was a horrible- yet perfectly straight lined- scar running right across his belly button. It was about eight inches in length and had a silver tint to it. It looked so clean cut. I gaped at it before noticing the white material of his shirt cover it up. His hands were quickly doing up the buttons; too hastily- he was skipping one and it was becoming uneven. He looked a mess.

"Malfoy, what happened?" I asked, sincerely concerned. This time he was the one who would not meet my eye. He simply stared straight above my head while anxiously trying to get his shirt back on. "Malfoy-"

"Nothing!" His tone was loud and hostile. I wouldn't push my luck.

"Sshh," I tried my best to soothe him. It wasn't even forced alarm. He looked disoriented, as if he had once had a brilliant plan that had just now been shattered to pieces. I was shocked that he let me bring his hands down to his sides and begin to unbutton and rebutton his shirt for him. I'd never seen him so vulnerable. I'd never seen anyone so vulnerable, except for maybe Harry…last year, with Sirius.

We were both silent as I worked at his shirt. His breathing had calmed, along with mine. His chest wasn't heaving anymore. His head was turned to the side a bit and his eyes were closed. He looked strangely peaceful. I finished with the last button and carefully straightened out his collar. The scene had gone from seductive to serious in such a short time. Now it seemed like some intimate happening was occurring.

I stood before him, watching him with his eyes closed. His blonde, white-ish hair hung like a curtain trying to hide his expression. But I couldn't read his face. I could barely ever read his face. Unless he wanted me to know, I was left in the dark- always. We weren't touching. My hands had long ago left his chest. And now we stood like we had before. Too close but not close enough either.

I reached my hand up ever so slowly. Sensing the motion or simply reading my mind as he seemed to have the ability to do, he opened his eyes, still not turning his head. His eyes were frightened. My arm was still, hand held out in the air. He glanced from me, to my hand, and then met my eyes again. It was like he was assessing my actions and then giving me permission. Granted what I wanted, I inched my hand towards his upper chest, fingers outstretched to where his heart was. His eyes began to close as I did so. I rested my hand on his heart and we both seemed to sigh. I was mystified, as I so often was this past week.

And too soon for my liking, voices could be heard on the floor below us. Breakfast was over and people were heading to their dormitories or classes. I felt, before I saw, his hand on mine, lowering it. When I looked up, I could only see his back as he made his way down the halls.

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AN: There may even be more up tonight if I'm that impatient. Up next? Well he did say that they were to meet, did he not? Please let me know what you think- the good, the bad, everything in between.


	6. Questions

Disclaimer: I own nothing and will never claim to.

AN: I don't know how to express my gratitude in any other way but to update so here you go…

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Be my friend, hold me

Wrap me up, unfold me

I am small and needy

Warm me up and breathe me

-Sia

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It was the last meal of the dinner, and always the most eventful one- dinner. I'd skipped lunch in favor of catching up on some studying. I wasn't really all that hungry anyway. Ginny had reassured me that people had, for the most part, stopped gossiping about me. I hadn't decided yet if I believed her or not. I couldn't ask Harry or Ron though. They were both busying themselves with Quidditch nonsense.

I walked into the Great Hall and realized that I was holding my breath, with expectations consisting of another horrible awkwardness. No awkwardness. No whispering. No staring- at least not too much. I sighed in relief and made my way to the Gryffindor table. I saw the first-year that had not so subtly leaked out the story of my lack of good sense the previous night. He avoided my gaze like I was the plague attached to two walking feet and a mouth. I frowned. Poor boy. It's not like I _normally_ made it a goal to scare children.

I sat down next to Neville who was reading a book involving Herbology. He said hello to me and continued on. I smiled at this. He may have been the boy with all the bad luck but he fit somewhere, and was happy there. I didn't fit anywhere. Sure, I had Ron and Harry and we were The Golden Trio but usually I was left out of that equation. It's not something I would bother to get upset or bitter about…it's just lonely and annoying after a while. I was good for studying and copying homework off of. It was not something I'd prided myself on in the last year or so.

I sighed and as if on cue turned my head to look over my shoulder. There was Theo scowling at a delightful looking Pansy. She looked like she was trying to spoon feed him. No Blaise. No Draco. _Shocker_. What was that ghastly secret of his? And how did it involve Blaise? It _had_ to involve Blaise. Of course, they were best friends, but come on. Honestly. How many Slytherins spend that much time with the same person, best friend or not? Not many. And what about that night in the library…

I couldn't make any sense of it; I wasn't even sure if I wanted to. I knew about Malfoy's family. Lucius had been there at the end of last year. Hell, I'd fought him off a time or two. But just because Lucius was like that…just because he was a- that didn't mean Malfoy had to be like that, did it? No, certainly not. But still…if not something involving Voldemort himself, then what could be this risky, ghastly secret? And why was he so dangerous? I was at a loss.

"Her-Hermione," Neville's timid voice called out to me. I craned my neck to see him. He looked reluctant to speak like he always does.

"Yes, Neville?" I encouraged.

"Nott's staring at you," he blurted out.

I widened my eyes and looked over my shoulder. Sure enough, there sat Theodore Nott…meeting my gaze. Pansy had left him in favor of Goyle, though I had no idea why. He looked as though he were considering something. His stare was clearly intentional and without a doubt directed towards me. Nott didn't look away; simply continued on with his staring. I turned around again, feeling extremely uncomfortable and more curious than ever.

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The common room was dull, dark, foreboding and lifeless- with the exception of the blazing fire and the more than lively being sitting across from me. I liked the ill-omened feeling one got when stepping through the portrait hole. It was chilly and unwelcoming- how I preferred. It didn't let me get too comfortable and sleepy, which left time for me to think. It was the perfect setting for times of contemplation…especially when there was a fire lit, as one almost always was.

It would have been perfect for today had it not been for the maddening best friend of mine. Blaise had been nagging me. He really could be unbearable at times- so scrutinizing of everything. I got enough of that from Granger. I huffed and ran a hand through my hair. _Granger_. She just seemed to cause more and more problems for me.

"Come on Draco, what was with you at breakfast?" I wanted to groan. Blaise would make the perfect house wife some day.

"Nothing. You read too much into everything." Too many people noticed too many things. With everything going on this year, I'd have to be more careful about how I did things. More skillful procedures.

"You're such an awful liar," he told me. I snapped my head to the side to glower at him.

He put his hands up in mock defense. "To me, at least," he reworded it. I looked back at the fire, seemingly studying the flames. "You nearly choked to death. And then at lunch!" he exclaimed as if in an outrage. "What the hell was that?!"

"What?" I bit out.

"You were bloody staring at the Gryffindor table the whole time! You keep doing that mate, just keep it up and people will start to think you got a crush on ol' Scarhead." This time I did groan aloud. Was I really that bad at being sly about things? No, I really wasn't. I was perfectly smooth the majority of the time. I just let my guard down around Blaise and Theo- not something that was likely to happen too often. And plus, Granger threw me off. I made a note not to let her do that to me anymore, knowing well enough that it wouldn't work no matter the effort.

"Merlin, Blaise," I whined, "What do you want me to say?"

He ignored me like the faithful Slytherin he was. "Granger wasn't at lunch today," he pointed out in a factual, but implying tone.

"Your point being?" I asked in a blasé tone. I didn't want to know where this was going, but being evasive surely could not help my case. Then he'd be even _more_ suspicious.

"Don't have one really," he said as he stretched out in the chair. "Just pointing out the facts I suppose."

I clenched my teeth together and tried to remember why I was friends with the guy in the first place. "You're annoying as hell; you know that, don't you?" I asked rhetorically.

"You fancy her, don't you?" I was thankful there was no food in my mouth just then otherwise I would have had another choking fit.

He knew me; that's why I was friends with him. I stared back at him. A smile played at his lips but I couldn't bring any sort of expression to my face. I didn't smile. I did not frown. My hands gripped the arm rests harder than necessary.

Blaise smirked. I was supposed to do the smirking. Not him. "What's the matter Draco? Cat got your tongue?" I forced myself to work up a threatening glare. "Or should I say _lioness_?"

My chest tightened. "What are you implying, Blaise?"

He chuckled and crossed his legs out in front of him. He was sprawled in the chair, looking much too comfortable for a conversation that upset my insides. "I'm not _implying_ anything. I'm openly accusing you, really. But I mean it as a question."

"Well your question is completely ridiculous," I said, hoping to sound nonchalant.

"And unanswered still," he replied.

_Think, think_. I wasn't sure if I could lie to Blaise; at least not a believable lie. It had just been made quite obvious that he knew me better than I would have liked to think.

"I'm not permitted to fancy her or any other mudblood," I spoke, not meeting his eye. I could feel his almost sad eyes on me. I didn't want to look at him. Pity was not something Malfoys tolerated. "Besides," I said after a moment of silence, "I don't like her. We just have a thing." That was the truth.

"A thing?" he asked, incredulity clearly heard in his voice. "_We_ have a thing? Meaning the both of you?!" Before I could get defensive, he spoke again. "Your secret's safe with me." That had a double meaning to both him and me. I dared to look at him. He glanced from the fireplace to me and smiled. I nodded slightly. The gesture was acknowledged.

After a few minutes of silence I got up from where I sat and stretched. "Sorry to leave you mate, but duty calls." Duty was persistent and refused to be put on hold. I began walking towards the portrait hole.

"When will you be back?" Blaise knew perfectly well what I was referring to and didn't ask questions. I was grateful for it. I preferred to not be reminded of my task and various other obligations.

"You know very well that there can be no estimated time." Double meaning. Not to Blaise, but to me it was. I had somewhere else to be and some forbidden fruit to taste.

"Indeed I do, my destined friend," he spoke using the word deliberately. "Indeed I do." I didn't reply. I walked away not liking the idea of being destined to anything.

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It was late and the library would most likely close in a half hour or so. The carpet was rough and scratchy under my legs, which were gracefully stretched out in front of me. The bookshelf cut into my back and its sharp edges did little for my current state of discomfort. Wax dripped onto the floor from the candle that sat to my left. I watched it dry up with a careless feeling.

Malfoy's words rung throughout my head. _'Meet me tomorrow after dinner.' Where? 'Here.' _Where was 'here'? I wasn't quite sure….hence the reason I was currently sitting on the library floor in the exact aisle we'd had our last 'meeting' at. The one where he'd helped me overcome my fear. I furrowed my brow at this. He simply did not make any sense at all.

And then another, even more recent memory came to mind. His scar. Had he been angry with me? He seemed more upset that I'd inadvertently discovered something (yet another mystery) about him than angry…but really, who could tell with Malfoy?

I watched the flame of the candle flicker. He wasn't going to show up, was he? I sat there for another ten minutes, eternally grateful that no one wandered over to where I was. It would be hard to answer their questions as to why I was sitting on the floor with not even a book in my lap. It would have looked extremely peculiar, I'm sure.

And then I heard footsteps. I nervously glanced up, not bothering to even try to think of an excuse for my present position, but soon realized I wouldn't need one. His pale form stood to my right and he was looking down at me with an almost wary expression.

He sat down across from me and I pulled my legs underneath me so he would have room. It was a rather narrow aisle after all, and he had long legs. Looking more closely I could see purple circles forming under his eyes. He looked tired and worn and above all, stressed. I knew the look well. I saw it in the mirror so very often.

"You showed up," I told him.

His expression remained unchanged. "You doubted me?"

"I do," I answered. No past tense. I still doubted him. I doubted any claim of a good intention and I doubted that he was not detrimental. I doubted my capability of staying away, regardless of any warnings he were to give me.

"That's reasonable," he responded.

"So why aren't you throwing a fit?" I asked, knowing full well it was a loaded question.

He narrowed his eyes and tried to figure me out. His attempt was unsuccessful as I presumed it would be. "Why would I throw a fit?"

"Because it's reasonable," I responded as if it were obvious. He was supposed to be irrational about most things and a complete brat about the rest.

"I'm afraid I don't understand you," he stated factually. I briefly allowed myself to wonder how much effort it took him not to insult me or bite out some sarcastic remark. However much effort he was putting in, I wouldn't be so generous with mine.

"Nor I you," I replied. He stared back at me. I swore I saw his eye twitch. Silence. He was waiting for me to explain further. "Honestly Malfoy, I never thought you were _thick_ of all things." No, I certainly would not be so generous with my labors towards amiability.

"Granger," he said, now wearing a broad smirk. He leaned back and put his hands behind his neck in a casual way. "You have _no_ idea how thick I am."

My face flushed and I glowered at him. He laughed at my prudish response. I tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear. The nerve he had.

"Why were you late?" I asked.

"Why did you wait?" he questioned me. No lame excuse, no dirty remark, just a question in response to a question to startle me.

"Why are you being so evasive?"

"Why didn't you date Weaslebee when he asked you out this year?"

"Why are you asking?!" I asked, my voice much higher pitched and louder than it was just before. He remained leaning back, looking as carefree as ever. I envied him for having that stance down without a problem. I couldn't perfect it if I tried. Not that I'd ever tried.

"Come on Granger," he said using a 'you must know' tone. The way he used my surname made it sound like the simple word 'Granger' was an explanation in itself. "Everyone knows you two have had a thing since…." He wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Forever," he finished. I looked down, not trusting myself to look Malfoy in the eyes. "Did you suddenly acquire a better taste in guys or something? Well from recent events it seems you have, but still…"

I rolled my eyes though he could not see it. What an audacious person he was, offending others and complimenting himself so very easily. I felt the need to speak the truth of the matter to cancel out everything he'd just said.

"Because he still would have been the same Ron and I would have been the same Hermione. Nothing would have changed," I played with my hands absent mindedly, sounding a little disappointed as I spoke. "Except we would have added snogging into the mix."

"Why does that bother you?" He sounded almost serious, not a trace of mockery in his tone.

I looked up to glare. "Why does it bothering me bother you?"

"Because it does." I dropped my head back against the bookshelf behind me in frustration. He sounded like a five year old.

"Don't waste your time acting like you care," I told him. A feeling of self-protectiveness washed over me. I wasn't about to get vulnerable and risk the fun in all of this.

I could hear him moving and glanced to see him sitting up straight now. "I do care."

I lifted my head up and looked at him in disbelief. "You don't like me," I said almost too harshly.

"How would you know?" he asked innocently. I stared at him with raised eyebrows, still not capable of the thought. "You've never asked me," he added.

I sighed loudly. It was like he was encouraging me to ask the dreaded question. "_Do_ you like me?" My tone suggested I already knew the answer.

There was a short pause on his part. "No…" I rolled my eyes in irritation. "But," he added, seeming to catch onto my fading patience, "I don't loathe you." How very poetic of him.

"Oh," I said exasperatedly, "Well isn't that such a step up…"

"For us," he spoke emphasizing the word, "It is. Miraculous actually." I was silent, unable to think of a thing to say. "Unless _you_ loathe _me._"

I breathed in and slowly let out the breath, opening my closed eyes as I did so. "I don't loathe you, Malfoy." My voice was surprisingly calm. I felt proud of my ability to keep my composure. It took too much effort to loathe someone and, due to _recent events_, I couldn't understand why I had put in so much effort before. More quickly than expected, I was realizing that I didn't know Malfoy at all. I was such a hypocrite. I kept getting mad at him for seeming to know me and yet I had always thought that I knew exactly who he was.

"Glad we're on the same wave length." I focused my eyes on his face, which still looked troubled and even, dare I say it, sad. I frowned at him. He caught my facial expression and tilted his head slightly.

"What?" he asked me.

I shook my head and frantically looked down and then up again. "Nothing," I said while shaking my head. I wouldn't ask and I wouldn't let on that I knew. I didn't like feeling vulnerable and I knew for a fact he wasn't one to open up of his own accord. The scar incident was a complete accident, as made clear from his shame and frantic, nearly desperate actions.

I decided to change the subject- to something that I actually had been pondering. "Why did you ask me what I'd do if it was my last year here at Hogwart's?"

"What do you mean?" he asked me. I studied his face carefully. The shade of purple underneath his eyes was more prominent now.

"Well," I hesitated, knowing that this too would let on to my perceptiveness. "It's just- you made it sound like this was your last year."

"It is my last year here," he stated. I looked up, realizing that I had been avoiding his gaze when speaking. His lips were pursed and his expression stony.

I felt as though the wind had been knocked out of me. "Oh," I managed. The word sounded inadequate.

Truth be told, at the time, I hadn't been wondering why it was his last year. I'd been more curious as to why he seemed disappointed at the fact. He didn't seem over-joyed; that's for sure.

"And," I spoke reluctantly. This probably wouldn't go too well. "Why is that?" He would either: tell the truth, not likely; tell a lie, more likely; or get angry, extremely likely. I didn't like the idea of any of them.

"Why do you ask so many questions?" Or he'd do that. I hadn't considered him being evasive and going back to answering a question with a question. Two could play that game.

"Why do you?" I asked, sounding angry with both him and myself. He smiled- a real, genuine smile. He still looked exhausted. After realizing that he wasn't going to say anything, I spoke again. "Why haven't you kissed me yet?" My voice was extremely quiet. I wasn't even sure if he'd heard me. I'd have to wait to hear what he said though, for I wasn't looking at him. I was nervously playing with the hem of my skirt. It was both a question and a request on my part.

But he had. Of course he had. "Why didn't you ask me?" He didn't sound smug and his voice was as low as mine had been.

My breath hitched as I looked up, but before I had the chance, I could feel his lips on mine. All common sense left me.

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AN: If you don't like the pace, go read something else. Sure, I'm all for teenage hormones getting the best of them, but I set the pace.

Had to get that out there. But anyway, please let me know what you think. I suppose if it's added to an alert or favorite, it's self-explanatory but I do cherish reviews.


	7. Answers

Disclaimer: Not of my own

Disclaimer: Not of my own.

AN: This chapter is much shorter than usual, but I couldn't bear to slaughter this scene by putting it in with anything else. I'll probably update again tonight.

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A show of hands, who has said these words before

With a show of hearts on the floor, who has ever meant them more

Well I'll swallow my pride if you'll stay for the years

And watch me spin circles as I disappear

Hearts, they don't lie; they just quiver in fear

-Mayday Parade

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Sometimes she really did talk too much. Of course, her know-it-all, Mudblood, bookworm self would be one to _talk_, wouldn't she? I inwardly kicked myself upon remembering me asking her to _talk_ just the other day.

But Little Miss Goody Two Shoes wasn't talking at the moment. No, she certainly was not. She was making other noises though. Little gasps and _moaning_, of all things. She was moaning because of my ministrations. I was positive nothing could make my head inflate more.

I was snogging Hermione Granger…_on the floor_. In the library, no less! All her talk of morals and values was absolute rubbish. If she could snog on the library floor –a place that she practically worshipped like a church with all its holiness- much past school hours, then surely the concept of right and wrong couldn't hold so much significance. But it did; and I knew it.

And then she did it again- moaned. Women and their damn moaning. But more importantly, Granger and her's. I hadn't found anything in life that turned me on more. "Malfoy," she'd said, her breathing heavy. That just wasn't doing it for me.

"Call me Draco," I whispered to her as my hand inched up her thigh.

And then she went as stiff as a board. It was as if she was petrified.

"Stop," she said, her tone draining of its lust.

Good job, man. If you hadn't asked her to say your bloody first name, she wouldn't be asking you to stop. I groaned loudly, thankful enough time had passed and the library was now empty. This was the perfect setting; or at least it would be, if they were able to continue on. Talking really wasn't appropriate at the moment.

"Granger," I whined, stopping what I was doing but not changing my current position hovering atop her. I could feel her muscles tighten and I saw her narrow her eyes slightly.

"Granger?" she asked. I swallowed. Oh Merlin, this was Granger under me, wasn't it? I never usually got names wrong. I stared hard. Brown, curly hair, annoyed expression. Yes, it was her. "So I'm supposed to call you Draco but you still get to call me by my last name?" Oh. Understanding dawned on me. She pushed at my chest and I reluctantly stood up, straightening my clothes as I did so.

I looked down at the floor where two other candles were sitting, wax spilling over their edges. Then I looked up to where she was now standing, trying to look dignified. Her usually bushy hair was sticking out in various directions and her lips were swollen. Her cheeks were flushed as she pulled her hair up into a messy bun. Stray curls fell out and she tucked them behind her ears.

Dare I say she looked pretty in all her rebelliousness. Acting on her youth and doing things she shouldn't. Breaking rules and doing what a teenager is expected to. I almost wanted to smile at the scene. I was finally getting her to do what I wanted her to- behave selfishly and act on her own wants.

She should cherish what was left of her childhood, so to speak, while she had the time. This was not the year to take anything for granted- not the food on your plate, not the routine of a school day, not a Quidditch match, not a willing, moaning girl beneath you. I was learning that the hard way. But when I thought about it, I wasn't sure if there was an easy way to learn it.

Now she was glaring at me. I simply looked back at her innocently. She huffed loudly and bent down to retrieve one of the still lit candles. She muttered as she did. "This was such an idiotic thing to do. I shouldn't have let you talk me into it."

I raised my eyebrows incredulously, though she could not see my expression. Leave it to her to place all the blame on me. "Excuse me, but I'd hardly consider this to be all my doing. You were far from averse, what with your whispering _touch me_ and placing my hands where they don't belong."

She blushed and then scowled. "Just leave me alone."

"And why the bloody hell do you think I'd do that?" My voice was louder now. I was angry. She was acting like I'd done something wrong, like I'd hurt her.

She stood up, clutching the candle tightly and met with my eyes. I could tell she was shaking slightly, but hadn't a clue why. Women were extremely emotional, I noted.

"Because you hate me!" she screeched.

I immediately threw a retort back. "I thought we'd established that I don't bloody hate you!" She wasn't even trying to disguise her shaking as anything other than that now. The candle's flame flickered violently. I stepped forward and knocked it out of her hand, sending it flying a few feet to my right.

"What are you doing?!" she yelled, throwing her head to the side to see where it had landed. Seeming relieved that its flame had gone out and that nothing was on fire, she sighed.

I closed the gap between us and roughly pushed her up against the bookcase. A gasp of surprise escaped her lips but I didn't give her a chance to use words. I covered her mouth with my own and she stiffened again. I pulled away and looked into her angry eyes just long enough to not notice her hand flying towards my face. Her palm met my cheek and the sound of it resounded in the empty library.

It wasn't that she'd slapped me that hurt. It was the fact that she wasn't remorseful about doing so. I didn't consciously decide to speak. Words just spilled out on their own.

"You don't understand! There isn't any time!" I probably sounded like a madman. I wouldn't hold it against her if that's exactly what she thought of me.

"What is it, Draco?" she asked seriously, yet mockingly at the same time. Her eyes were glassy and she looked like she might cry. I didn't want her to cry, especially not because of something I'd done or said. I was well aware of her use of my first name though. "It's not as though the world's ending."

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. "It might as well be! Don't you get it? Don't you realize that a war's going to break out?"

"Of course I know!" she shouted back indignantly. She wasn't oblivious of any of this, of course, but she still didn't seem to grasp any of it. Not quite like I did. My father had told me about the end of last year. I'd heard bits and pieces from others and knew she had been there for that. But this was more. This was going to be bigger than that. It was bigger than me. Than her. Than us, any of us.

"There are going to be two sides and we will be fighting the same battles, except on opposite sides, _against_ one another!" This was too much information. She could go and blab all this to her precious Order and I'd be dead. Who knew, maybe I'd die anyways. It would be a miracle if I survived this all anyway. "I'm going to have to fight you! Don't you understand?"

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I did understand. I understood much too perfectly. It was all so much to take in, yet my brain didn't seem to have a problem processing all of it so quickly. He wasn't on my side and never was. I was an idiot for even thinking it possible.

"So don't!" I cried, not letting any of my thoughts go through the usual filter before escaping my lips. "Don't do it." My voice was softer but not any less thick with emotion. Tears threatened to leak down my cheeks but I blinked furiously to keep them away. "The Order can protect you," I said, knowing I was going to start to ramble soon. "I can protect you…we can…"

"No!" He shouted seeming both frustrated and disappointed. "You can't!"

"Why not?" I screamed. This was foolish. Someone would hear us. But I couldn't lower my voice and I wouldn't ask him to lower his. It practically would have been the equivalent of lowering our guard and neither of us were about to do that.

"Because I'm way past the point of being swayed! There's nothing you can do! Our whole bloody world is too busy destroying itself to do anything else!" His chest was heaving and he got angrier each time a lock of hair fell in his eyes. He was pacing slightly while I was stuck where I was, feet planted to the floor.

"You're one to talk!" I told him, not feeling any regret afterwards. I didn't know exactly what he was involved in, but I knew it had nothing to do with my side. And if it wasn't our side then it was Voldemort's. And that could mean only one thing. He was silent, looking at me as if I'd slapped him again.

"So is it a glamour charm that you use or what? I haven't seen it." A thought came to mind and I continued. "But if a charm won't work on that scar of yours then I doubt it could hide something like _that_."

My voice was one of disgust. I was disgusted- with him, myself, with everything I wasn't feeling and everything I was. I wish he hated me and I wish we'd never done anything. But even a Time Turner couldn't help me with this.

"So come on Malfoy," I said quietly, feeling the lump in my throat and the wetness coming from my eyes. "How have you hidden it from me?"

"You think I have the dark mark," I finally heard him say. I realized I had my head tilted down slightly and looked up to meet his eyes.

"Don't you?" I asked astonished.

His once expressionless face turned to hurt and then quickly back to anger, the emotion on his face I was most familiar with. His jaw tightened, his brow furrowed and his breathing erratic, he stared at me.

"Go to hell," he spat at me before leaving me to myself. My legs were wobbly and I slumped to the floor, sobbing into my own hands.

Confused that he wasn't a Death Eater; hurt that that still did not mean he was on our side; angry that he was so adamant about the entire thing. This year was turning out nothing like I expected.

DH DH DH DH DH DH DH DH DH DH DH DH DH DH DH DH

AN: I am a horrible, horrible person. What has it been? 11 days since my last update? But my muse went on vacation and I would hate to just write crap down and hand it over to you. I'll force myself to make time, but I can't force myself to write just anything.

Thank you so much for all the feedback and it's great to hear the specific things you guys like. Again, thank you.

I'll try not to torture you all with such long waits. It's cruel of me, I know.

And this story is not going to be all butterflies and sunshine. I'm all for some fluff and sweetness and I adore smut and all their dirty deeds; but this has a plot, and a dark plot at that.

I swear my ANs won't always be this long.


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